Reason Interrupted
by wintermoonwitch
Summary: Nyota Uhura seems strangely in tune to her new Vulcan professor's emotions ? and Spock is pulled to her too. What are a Cadet and lieutenant to do? Takes place at Starfleet Academy in Nyota's senior year
1. Chapter 1

REASON INTERRUPTED

A/N This is my first fic so I'd love any feedback! I've given it a T rating but may increase it to M depending on future chapters.

Chapter One

"I had really wished I was done with this place," Nyota Uhura sighed as she gazed up at Starfleet Academy's Physics building.

Sarah Morris placed a hand on her shoulder and tried to look solemn. She couldn't quite hide the smile in her eyes. "Come on, Ny. You can do it. Just one more semester."

"No, two!" Nyota wailed as the two friends left the rare San Francisco sun for the shady interior. "Dr. Ferrous is making me take an intermediate level warp physics course next semester too, didn't I tell you?"

"Maybe. Sorry, I was preoccupied this morning…"

"I'm just glad we're in…" Nyota looked down at her schedule to double-check and read, "…Advanced Subspace Communicative Physics…_together_." They walked through the sleek building toward their destination companionably. Nyota tried to console herself by reminding herself this was required if she wanted to go active. Why did she need to know _how_ subspace communications worked as long as it _did_? She was a communications cadet; she had been sure her science requirements would be mostly confined to biology. She had failed to realize there would be so much physics to learn to be a communications officer.

"Come, dear Nyota, head up," Sarah urged with a giggle as she motioned toward room S117. The two girls entered with just two minutes to settle in before class started.

The classroom was small, with only perhaps twenty seats arranged in a slope before the lectern and desk. The front wall to their right was an old fashioned white board with a projector up above. Nyota had been expecting the class to be more of a lecture, but it appeared to just be a small group of people she already knew from her communications and language classes. The poor professor, trying to teach physics to a bunch of communications majors…

Nyota clutched her PADD to her chest and strode to two unoccupied seats near the back. She didn't like to be too far from the professor in general, but Sarah liked the back and most of the seats were taken, so they compromised. "Hey, Jon, Ling," she nodded with a grin. As the four students bemoaned their situation good naturedly, Nyota watched the door. She shouldn't have been complaining so much, really, as she was anticipating seeing their professor.

"Let's just hope Lt. Spock meets expectations," Ling shrugged, voicing Nyota's own thoughts. "I've heard he's brilliant, so maybe it won't be as bad as we think," she suggested.

"Yeah, or maybe it means it'll just be that much harder to understand," Jon pouted.

"Oh, hush, Jon, we all know you've been checking out his Vulcan ass for weeks," Sarah stage whispered. Jon pretended to be insulted, but couldn't pull it off. Nyota giggled, pretending she hadn't been doing the same…

As they sat giggling in a very undignified manner in the back corner, the half Vulcan himself entered the small classroom and the students quieted quickly. He was standing as Nyota often saw him around campus, with his hands clasped behind his back and head down as though he was thinking deeply. His eyes swept the classroom and Nyota could not look away from his gently sloped eyebrows, delicately pointed ears and stunning cheekbones. She knew the glimpses she'd caught across rooms and lecture halls couldn't be so misleading; he really was quite good looking.

He paced to his desk and pulled his PADD out from behind his back. Without preamble, he began taking roll. His voice was low and soothing and he pronounced all names correctly.

"This is Advanced Subspace Communicative Physics. It is a requirement for most cadets who wish to become active on a starship. We will be discussing the mechanics of interstellar communication…" He spoke with no notes and no inflection.

_So much for that_, Nyota thought to herself. Even if he was brilliant, he apparently wouldn't be helping Sub Physics be any more entertaining. How was she supposed to survive a whole semester of this monotony? Physics was difficult enough without a dull teacher. She found her mind wandering more to the quality of his voice than what he was saying and berated herself. She needed to do well in physics if she wanted that post on the Enterprise. Hell, she needed to _understand _physics of she was going to survive on the Enterprise. Focus, Nyota, focus.

The lieutenant started into their course work even though it was their first day of class. Nyota, at least, already had her textbook, but Sarah and Jon hadn't gotten theirs yet. Looked like the half Vulcan was going to drive his class hard.

Spock suppressed his sigh. It was an unfortunate human trait he had picked up from his mother, but he tried not to give in to the temptation while around others. It was illogical to prefer one teaching post over another, but he found he did not wish to be teaching Advanced Subspace Communicative Physics. He found biology much more mentally stimulating, and he did not understand why Commander Lee had assigned him this post outside his area of expertise.

At the end of their first class, after he watched all nineteen of his students file out, he proceeded to the dining hall. He intended to get his food and carry it back to his office, but he was sidetracked by the call of his name on his way out.

"Lieutenant Spock!" Spock turned to see Dr. George Ferrous and Professor Alice Cormier sitting together eating lunch. Dr. Ferrous was motioning him over enthusiastically. Spock shifted his path and paused before their table.

"Dr. Ferrous, Professor Cormier," he greeted them with a raised eyebrow.

"Spock, we were just arguing over something I believe you would know the answer to," Dr. Ferrous informed him. When no explanation came, Spock prompted him, "Indeed?"

Prof Cormier continued for him. "We really shouldn't ask," she started, sending Dr. Ferrous a look Spock did not imagine could be positive, "but we were discussing Vulcan physiology and were wondering if, with the desert planet and all…I cannot believe I'm asking this…" she hesitated, blushing.

"Do you take showers?" Dr. Ferrous finished unabashedly. Spock blinked down at them. Would it not be simpler to answer their question as opposed to wondering aloud how they had reached a point in conversation where they were discussing the bathing habits of Vulcans?

"Indeed we do," he answered simply. "The desert climate necessitates them being short and less frequent than human habit. Also, we have drier skin and fewer regular secretions, meaning such frequent bathing is unnecessary."

"That was more than I needed to know," Prof Cormier said, frowning slightly.

"Since he won't say it, Alice, I will: you asked," Dr. Ferrous grinned. Spock raised an eyebrow.

"Do you require anything else?"

"Actually, Spock, would you mind sitting down? I wanted to ask you about your new classes."

Spock set down his lunch tray somewhat hesitantly, but seated himself. He was not accustomed to small talk, but Dr. Ferrous seemed intent on pulling him into conversation lately. The communications head was an intelligent man and they often had interesting conversations, but Spock did not know why the man felt so compelled to speak with him.

"I'm sure you noticed your Sub Physics class is mostly communications majors."

"I did."

"Well, first of all, let me apologize, as it's mostly my fault."

Prof Cormier added, "He decided his spoiled students needed a dose of the real world."

"They are so coddled," Dr. Ferrous said rolling his eyes. "A lot of them have the most trouble with their science classes, so they're always assigned to classes with…enthusiastic professors. Or they transfer into those classes." Spock ate silently, trying to understand the relevance of Dr. Ferrous' explanation. "But if they're going to work in Starfleet, they are going to work with scientists. With people like you, Spock."

The lieutenant raised his gaze. "Are you referring to the stereotype of scientists as less social people?"

"In my experience, it's not just a stereotype," Prof Cormier laughed. Spock tilted his head; this was interesting, as she was herself a scientist. "I know plenty of scientists who fit the bill. Myself occasionally included."

"I would not define you as antisocial, Professor Cormier," Spock said.

"Nonetheless, they will have to work with people like…well, more like you, Spock," Dr. Ferrous continued. "I don't think you'll take it as a criticism, which it's not." Spock inclined his head in acknowledgement. "So I asked Lee to give you a class of my little darlings." Fascinating. Dr. Ferrous seemed to have formed an emotional attachment to the students he taught and advised. Was it perhaps because of his responsibility for them?

"I think what he's saying is, 'Be nice,'" Prof Cormier laughed.

"Not at all, not at all!" Dr. Ferrous protested, still grinning widely. "Be as cold as you can, Lieutenant. I want them to get a good dose of scientific detachment."

Spock inclined his head again. "I believe I will be able to provide just that, Doctor."

"Thanks, Spock." The lieutenant refrained from telling him it was illogical to thank him for something he could not control if he wished. "Oh, and I want to ask what you think of Cadet Uhura. I know it's only been one class…"

Prof Cormier leaned towards Spock conspiratorially. "Ferrous here thinks she's his prodigy."

"No I don't. I've had no part it in. But she's a genius, Spock, you'll see. She might have trouble with the Physics, but it's worth teaching her. When she's interested, she'll learn quicker than a Vulcan mind melded straight to a computer."

Spock opened his mouth to respond, but Prof Cormier cut him off. "Don't even try, Spock. That analogy is beyond helping." Her laughter stopped him from attempting a correction.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"Cadet," Spock said simply. Nyota's head snapped up to find the professor's eyes trained on her. She would have blushed, but was distracted by his eyes. They were so dark she might call them black; she could tell even from so far back in the classroom. When his gaze didn't leave her, her embarrassment caught up with her and she felt her cheeks grow warm. She had continued to speak to Sarah after he had started talking. She was trying to fill her in on the latest Gaila update. She loved the Orion, honestly, but she needed to vent sometimes! Since they'd both rushed from separate places to reach Sub Physics, she hadn't been able to tell Sarah about last night's…ordeal. Nyota's ability to speak out of the corner of her mouth had served her well during her life, especially in school. It failed her in Lt. Spock's class.

She realized he must have inherited his hearing from his Vulcan side, and blushed deeper as she hoped fervently he had not heard details of their conversation. Somehow she didn't think he would appreciate the urgency of a story about her roommate's sexual exploits. She ducked her head and picked up her stylus.

Lt. Spock continued with his lecture, but she thought he seemed annoyed. He hadn't said the word "cadet" with any inflection; it wasn't sharp, or accompanied by a reproving glare. But somehow she felt he was annoyed by her, or by his situation, or something. She studied him, wondering if it was just her overly sensitive social radar picking up bogus signals. His body was relaxed, or at least relatively. He hadn't even raised an eyebrow at her, but she felt a distinct feeling of annoyance from him. She shook it off; surely she was going crazy if she was assigning emotions to her Vulcan professor.

"Yes, you definitely are," Sarah agreed when Nyota told her about the sensation at lunch. "I have never seen a less expressive person. I mean, obviously we've studied them, but I'd never met a Vulcan before, you know? And if he's only half…" Jon, seated beside her, nodded emphatically.

"I always thought a people with such a beautiful language couldn't possibly be without emotion. Maybe that's just clouding my judgment," Nyota reasoned.

"I think you're just trying to make his lectures more interesting," Sarah suggested.

"No, she _wants_ him," Gaila insisted, pointing her fork at Nyota for emphasis. She'd joined them in the dining hall and seemed very satisfied with herself.

"Not so loud, Gaila," Nyota complained, peering around the dining hall.

"Oh, he's not here, hon," Jon assured her. "And you know it. He never eats in here."

"Aren't you jealous, Jon?" Sarah grinned. He scoffed.

"You can have him, Ny," he shook his head. "I need a little more affection, if you know what I mean."

Nyota tried not to stick her tongue out at him. "I don't want him, Ha'DIbaH," she scoffed in Klingon.

"I am insulted, Nyota," he laughed, but she had already moved on.

"I just think it's weird that I felt such a strong impression of emotion from him."

"It's because your brain already knows you want him subconsciously," Gaila said matter-of-factly.

"Gaila, the whole world does not revolve around sex," Jon rolled his eyes.

"Thank you!" Nyota laughed. "Do you know how many times I have used that phrase in the past three years of my life? At least—"

"—not Terra," Gaila finished for her. "I don't care, why else would you claim a Vulcan was expressing emotion? Underneath it all, they may be a very passionate race—"

Sarah snorted. "Gaila, did you just call Vulcans 'passionate'?"

"Yes," Gaila insisted as Nyota laughed again. "You humans don't see it, but they have a roiling passion under those masks. That's the whole point of why they don't express anything."

"Roiling passion?" Nyota giggled, trying to imagine the professor in a state remotely resembling "roiling passion"…She could not.

"Oh, shut up. You're the one claiming you can tell when he's _annoyed_."

Nyota saw the lieutenant walk into the dining hall and shushed them all. By the time he left carrying his lunch, the conversation had turned to Jon's thesis project on incorporating idioms into universal translator programming.

"Sarah, do you know where my red sweater is?" Nyota asked, peeking her head around the door to her friend's single. "You brought it back after you borrowed it, right?"

Sarah turned around from her seat at her desk with a scowl. "Yes, Nyota, I did," she said testily. Nyota put herself on guard.

"I didn't mean to accuse you," she defended herself.

"That's not what I mean. Do you really not remember me bringing it back? That night, after Brian took me to Books and Coffee…?" Nyota licked her lips. Sarah was upset, and she didn't know why. It sounded like she should. Sarah huffed a sigh. "He's going to break up with me," she scowled.

Nyota flushed. She remembered now. That night she had been obsessing over a Romulan translation, and may have basically ignored her. "What happened?" she asked, eyes wide.

"No, you know what, Ny, I don't even want to tell you about it. It was days ago, and you clearly haven't noticed anything's wrong."

"I'm sorry, Sarah, seriously. I want to hear about it."

"Forget it. Go notice Vulcan emotions but not mine."

"Mory, come on. I said I'm sorry." Nyota heard the antagonism enter her voice, but could do nothing to stop it. Sarah turned back to her work and didn't reply, which meant she was done and wouldn't respond again. Nyota scowled. "Fine. Don't tell me about Brian. Maybe I don't care." Sarah said nothing, and Nyota left, snapping the door shut crisply.

That afternoon they sat in Sub Physics with Jon between them. Nyota had passed apologetic to angry. Why couldn't Sarah just tell her what had happened and move on? She couldn't listen to Lt. Spock; she jiggled her stylus and urged time to pass faster.

They'd handed in their first papers the day before; they sat in a neat pile on the professor's desk, already graded. He indicated they should take them as they left. Still distracted, Nyota picked hers up and flipped to the back page; 68. She felt her stomach plummet. Out of 100? Sarah glanced over her shoulder. "Ooo, that sucks," she said with a sickeningly fake sympathetic simper. Nyota glowered at her, but caught Jon by the arm.

"I'll meet you at the dining hall, alright?" He nodded, and Nyota waited impatiently for everyone to leave the classroom. As soon as Ling walked out with a curious glance back at her, Nyota turned to Lt. Spock. He sat as his desk apparently reading, head bowed over his PADD. She approached his desk.

"Lieutenant Spock?" she asked when he didn't look up.

"Yes, Cadet?" he responded, eyes still on his PADD.

"Why did I get a 68? Sir?" she asked pointedly, trying, but failing, to sound respectful.

His dark eyes rose to meet hers inexpressively. "I find the human system of grading inaccurate; however, you received a 68% because you failed to address the impact of amplifiers on early subspace communications."

"But you just said to discuss the use of early subspace technologies. That's what I did!"

Spock raised an eyebrow at her. Vulcans would not express such direct contradiction to an explanation of their teacher's assessment. However, Spock had been on Terra long enough to know how touchy humans could become about grades.

"Most of your paper discussed the impact of subspace communications on various societies and communications between planets and star ships. This is a physics course, Cadet; I required more discussion of subspace physics."

"Well, perhaps you should be more precise in your assignments, sir," she said, frowning deeply.

"Perhaps you should pay more attention to what I am discussing in class and reflect that in your next paper, Cadet."

_Touché_, she thought darkly, still glowering at him. Now that he explained it, she knew he was right. What had she been thinking that night? Perhaps she'd just been working on her humanities paper. The two classes overlapped too much; the other project had been on the impact of early communications technologies on different civilizations, and she must have slipped into excited-communications-humanities-Nyota while writing her physics paper. They'd mostly been talking about the history of subspace communications science (which, incidentally, Nyota found completely useless), and she thought her hum class was much more interesting. She was a people person, not a particle person. She tried not to smirk when she thought the words…

Spock continued to look at her expressionlessly, but as she pulled herself away from her reverie, she noticed he seemed…irked again. But was it just the slightly combative response he gave her? She was sure he hadn't meant it in an especially accusatory way. He didn't look angry, but she got a feeling of exasperation she didn't think she was merely imagining.

"I wish you to understand the concepts I am discussing," the lieutenant said flatly and unexpectedly. He watched her shoulders sag dramatically and the defiant expression on her face fade. He hid his alarm as she became suddenly, significantly defeated.

"I'm sorry," she said. He did not understand why she was apologizing. "I'm blaming you for a grade I clearly deserved. I just find the social aspect so much more interesting than the scientific mechanics of it…And this physics is hard to understand, so I reverted to what I _get_ without thinking…Is there anything I can do to boost my grade? Would you mind explaining some of it again?" she asked skeptically.

Spock was glad he was not required to respond to her explanation of her illogical avoidance of what she did not understand. "You can improve your grade by receiving higher marks on future assignments; it would be remiss of me to refuse further explanation of concepts from class."

Nyota lingered over his word choice a moment before thanking him. "And I'm sorry for attacking you before," she said, causing Spock to reflect on _her_ word choice. "I got in a fight with my friend Sarah earlier and I was feeling all tetchy…I shouldn't have taken it out on you, sir."

He inclined his head. "There is no reason to detail your personal affairs, Cadet." She flushed.

"Right, sorry."

"If you would like to set up a time to go over class material, I am amenable."

"Whenever is fine for you," she said, shaking her head.

"I cannot meet with you today, as I have a prior engagement; however, on most days we have class, I am free immediately afterwards."

"Okay, that sounds perfect. Thank you so much, Lieutenant," Nyota said, noting she had come in with a lot more fight in her than she had now.

"Not at all, Cadet," he said with a nod, then turned back to his PADD, clearly dismissing her from his classroom.

**A/N** Thanks so much to everyone who has reviewed and read so far. I feel so encouraged =] Hope you enjoyed this chapter. I promise the romance will come along eventually... I live for reviews!


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Once the Cadet had left, Spock closed his classroom door behind him and walked sedately towards Dr. Ferrous' office in the language building. He had been invited for a game of 3-D chess, and though he was skeptical the man's only motivation was the game, Spock was curious to assess his chess skills. He had yet to find a suitable opponent among Starfleet personnel. Furthermore, he had decided he should endeavor to practice his "small talk." It seemed to be a required skill in many human situations.

When he arrived, the door whooshed open to reveal Dr. Ferrous beckoning him in with a large grin. Prof Cormier sat curled into Dr. Ferrous' plush chair with a book on her lap. Spock blinked at her, surprised to see her in such an unprofessional manner; her shoes were off and her skirt rode up her legs. She smiled at him. He had never noticed the pleasant effect of her light brown hair swooping over her bright blue eyes.

"Hey, Spock," she said cheerfully. Ferrous motioned him toward the seat beside his desk, on which sat a 3-D chess set.

"Ready to play?" Ferrous asked. "I'm glad to have a real opponent. I haven't found any as good as me on staff yet, but I'm sure you can beat me soundly," he smiled.

"I admit I did agree in search of a suitable opponent as well," Spock acknowledged. Ferrous smiled.

"I'll give you white as my guest, even though it means you'll best me for sure." As they set up their pieces, Prof Cormier continued a conversation they had apparently been in the middle of.

"Anyway, George, I still think you're wrong," she said. "Biology has everything to do with phonology."

"I never said it didn't," Ferrous replied, pushing a plate of sandwiches toward Spock. "They're vegetarian, don't worry," he said in an aside before turning back to Prof Cormier. "I'm just saying it's not as important as cultural interactions that change language."

"We are talking about phonology, aren't we? How does culture change the sound of a language?"

"Have you listened to Klingon lately? Is it not the most intimidating sound ever?"

Spock observed them curiously. They were arguing quite animatedly; Prof Cormier scoffed as she responded, "That's just in comparison to Standard. I think it's a coincidence that Klingon sounds so harsh to us. It has more to do with their vocalization organs." But then she reached forward for a sandwich and Ferrous said, "You'll like the wheat bread ones. I used that garlic butter you like," and she smiled.

Despite having lived in the same house as his mother for nearly twenty years, Spock still had trouble with sudden emotional change. Cadet Uhura had bewildered him her mood swing, and now the professors were acting simultaneously antagonistic and polite towards each other.

"Spock, what do you think?" Prof Cormier asked, turning to their guest.

Slightly taken aback, Spock hesitated before answering and Ferrous jumped in, "No fair, he's biased as much as you are. You can't pit two biologists against me in this argument."

"I've heard he's had enough language education. And anyway, he's Vulcan; bias is moot." Spock tilted his head, intrigued.

"I will attempt to remain as objective as possible," he said.

"So do I," Ferrous said, moving a chess piece with great care, "but I still think the cultural part must be more important, and the scientist still thinks the biology is more important."

"This is a debated topic in phonology academia; however, I assume the effect is a combination of the two factors, as well as some we have not considered, such as geography," he said.

"Of course you wouldn't take sides," Prof Cormier sighed. "That's so dissatisfying."

"I find it intriguing that being correct is more satisfying than finding truth," Spock commented.

"It's a common human fault, I think," Ferrous conceded. "And yet you're probably right, even if I would rather you agreed with me."

"Think that's a biological thing, liking being right?" Prof Cormier wondered.

"You think everything's a biological thing," Ferrous laughed.

Spock said, "Vulcan history would suggest it does not create a biological advantage. We have evolved relatively similarly, but do not experience the same emotional attachment to ideas."

Prof Cormier shrugged and watched Dr. Ferrous take his next move on the board. Spock watched him with interest and realized his own last move had not been optimal. He must have been distracted to not notice the ease with which Dr. Ferrous could check his queen within three moves. But he didn't see the sequence, so Spock was safe. He endeavored to concentrate better.

"Anything of interest in my language physics class?" the doctor asked. "I've had three of them come in to complain that they shouldn't have to take it since they want to be ambassadors."

"They handed in their first papers yesterday."

"All of them from humanities kids?" Prof Cormier grimaced sympathetically. "They're usually better written—you know, prettier—but…confused."

"Cadet Uhura writes well," Dr. Ferrous commented. Prof Cormier's rolling eyes did not escape Spock's notice.

"In fact Cadet Uhura did not perform satisfactorily," Spock said, moving his bishop up a level.

"Oh?" Ferrous asked, surprised. "Did she get mad at you?" he frowned. Prof Cormier laughed.

"Indeed she did," Spock agreed, tilting his head again. "However, she explained her anger had a personal impetus and admitted she needed more help with the physics concepts."

"That girl has spunk," Prof Cormier grinned. "I had her for a biology class her freshman year and you should have seen her when she got her first lab write up back…"

"She'll get back in it," Ferrous nodded, studying the chess board closely. Prof Cormier laughed again, reminding Spock of his mother. "Ferrous, you make it sound like a competition. Why are you so attached to this girl?"

"Because she's our best communications student, I'm sure. I never told you, Alice, but she talked to me about wanting to join the Enterprise crew. They go active the same year if Uhura can get on a ship right out of the Academy." He looked up at Spock. "Quite frankly, Spock, it's part of why I wanted her in your class. You can get her ready for active duty."

"As her Physics instructor?" Spock asked, momentarily diverting part of his attention from the game. Ferrous abandoned it completely.

"She needs a science advisor if she's serious about getting the Enterprise right out of the Academy. I think you can help."

"Why didn't you ask me?" Prof Cormier asked, though Spock was fairly sure her tone was merely curious.

"You're too nice," Ferrous grinned. "I can be nice. She needs harsh. Spock is harsh, I've heard him critique students before." He turned back to the half-Vulcan across his desk. "It's sort of a lot to ask…"

"You are asking me to benefit Cadet Uhura's future career," Spock confirmed. "I am a professor; I do not think it is too much to ask."

"Thanks, Spock. I just have this feeling about her…she can do well. She has the potential to be communications officer on the Enterprise. I want to see her get there."

"I will do what I can," Spock agreed.

**

The next night Spock contacted his mother as she insisted he do every Thursday evening. Sitting on his couch in his apartment, his laptop computer resting on his knees, Amanda Grayson's face appeared on the screen. The light around her was ruddy in quality and the image of her face was comfortingly familiar. He noted, however, a slight frown on her forehead.

"Is anything wrong, Mother?" he asked.

Amanda had tried to smooth her emotion from her face, but her son noted details. He'd always been best at seeing her displeasure, for some reason. His question was unexpressive, but she knew he was concerned. "Oh, it's nothing, Spock, thank you." He looked at her blankly, and gave no response, but she sighed. "Alright, it's not nothing. You know me well, sa-fu."

Spock's lips twitched just slightly. "I should hope so, Mother."

"I wasn't going to tell you because I know you have plenty going on, and I don't know if he'd want me to say, but…I'm worried about your father." Spock's stomach constricted illogically. "He's been meditating all day and hasn't told me why. It's unlike him; he hasn't meditated so much since right after you turned down the Science Academy," Amanda said lightly. She rushed to finish the explanation. "It probably has no significance, Spock. I am sorry you noticed anything."

Spock had not spoken to his father since choosing Starfleet over the Vulcan Science Academy 7 years, 235 days, and 2 hours earlier. It grieved him, and he generally wished his mother to speak of him more. Through his familial bond, he knew his father was well; but he had been unable to access his father's emotions since then.

"Frequent meditation is not so alarming, Mother. Is this not Father's seventy seventh year?"

Amanda flushed deeply, surprised he would even allude to it when her own husband disliked speaking of it... "No, Spock, that's not it. He won't let me hear what it is. I don't remember the last time he blocked me out like this."

Spock restrained a frown, but his mother noted the twitch of his eye and knew he was concerned as well. "I am sorry I cannot help, Mother," he said. She waved him off.

"Don't be. I can handle him. I wanted to ask about your new classes. You told me a bit last week, but you must know the students better now."

"I believe I will have a stimulating semester. Dr. Ferrous has asked me to help one of the Cadets succeed in obtaining an assignment to the Enterprise."

"Oo, a project?" Amanda smiled. Spock was pleased to see her sit straighter in her chair.

"I suppose you could term it thus."

"Who is it?"

"Her name is Nyota Uhura. He seems to have formed an attachment to her as a student."

"Teachers do that, Spock, believe me," she smiled widely. "Don't you remember my stories about my children? They weren't just for general information; I grew attached to them."

"Dr. Ferrous especially wants Cadet Uhura to succeed; he asked me to be her scientific advisor."

"You did accept, I hope?" she asked, looking excited.

"Indeed I did," he said, inclining his head.

"Let me know how it goes, Spock," she smiled, surveying her son carefully. She hoped this would help his interactions with humans. Despite her, she knew he still struggled. Sometimes she felt as though she had failed him; had she become too Vulcan in an effort to help him fit in, or been too expressive and confused him too much? She was anxious to see him…make friends, even though that sounded like he was entering kindergarten…What's a mother to do? "I should go," she said. "Your father is getting hungry, so I should go cook…Be well, sa-fu."

"And you, Mother. Let me know if anything happens with Father that concerns you."

"Alright, Spock. I love you." Her son nodded once in reply and his image flicked away.

***

**A/N **Yay for snow days!!I know it's little, but I promise the next one will have some Nyota/Spock. I love Amanda, which is a lot of why I wanted to put her in my subplots…If you'd like to see more of her and Sarek, I highly recommend StarTrekFanWriter's fabulous _The Native._

Please review and let me know what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

"Gaila, did Sarah tell you what happened with Brian?" Nyota asked as they sat on Nyota's bed, both painting their toenails. Orions didn't generally paint their nails, but when Gaila had seen Nyota's, she'd decided it was the most alluring thing she'd ever seen. They had fun deciding what looked good against Nyota's skin and what looked good against Gaila's skin; gold, at least, flattered them both, and they were currently sharing the bottle, alternating coats.

"No, but she was upset about it. I think they're going to break up, which is unfortunate because Sarah's a lot less pleasant when she's not getting any…" Nyota whacked her arm, making her hand slip. "Hey, you made me paint on myself! You owe me a mani now, you know."

"I should be used to you by now…" Nyota grinned.

"Yeah, no kidding. But you know it's true. You just don't want to say it out loud. You keep me around because I voice your inner impolite loud mouth."

"Anyway, Sarah's pissed at me. And basically I'm done with it because it's not like she tried to tell me. She just moped and expected me to notice."

Gaila leaned back to admire her handiwork and shrugged. "She'll get over it."

"Except she might not," Nyota shook her head, snatching the bottle away. "That girl is stubborn. Don't you remember the whole issue with that girl Erin? Sarah still refuses to eat in the dining hall if she's there."

"Then maybe you should apologize," Gaila suggested.

"I didn't do anything wrong," she said stubbornly as she swiped polish on efficiently. "I'm not apologizing first."

"Well, neither will she," Gaila said, standing up to start digging through Ny's closet. "You guys are friends because you're both so stubborn, but it could ruin everything." Her roommate just huffed in response.

**

The next afternoon Nyota hung back after Sub Physics class. Sarah left without a word, but Ling and Jon said they'd see her later. Spock sat at his desk as he had last time, and she waited for him to look up. Finally, he shut off his PADD and stood to lead her wordlessly to his office.

They left the Physics building to enter the Biology building next door. Nyota felt like a puppy clutching her PADD to her chest and tagging behind the professor. He didn't speak as they walked, and he strode quickly. Nyota found herself thinking he seemed tense before shaking her head at herself. _Stop imposing emotions on the poor man_, Nyota thought to herself. _You're just trying to distract yourself from your own problems_.

Lt. Spock entered his keypad code and motioned her forward into his office. She walked into what felt like a wall of dry heat; it felt at least ten degrees warmer than outside. She peeled her jacket off as she looked around. The space was sparse, with just his desk, one chair and a short bookshelf. His desk had nothing personal on it, just a closed laptop computer, several neatly stacked file folders, and a container of pens. The bookshelf looked more promising, but before she could inspect it, he had sat behind his desk and motioned for her to sit in front. He hadn't changed the stark white walls with paint or hangings, which made Nyota feel like she was being interrogated as she sat down in the industrial metal chair.

"Sir," she started hesitantly, unable to bear the awkward silence anymore, "do you not mind the bare walls?" She peered round the room, clearly uncomfortable.

Spock tilted his head minutely. "Mind them?"

"Does it not bother you that they are bare?" she rephrased easily.

"I am familiar with the phrase, and no, I do not…mind them," he replied. Then he noted, "You seem uncomfortable, however. Would you be more comfortable if I turned down the heat while you are here?"

"No, I like it warm. Don't turn it down for me." She looked back at him and bit her lip. "Permission to speak freely?"

"Please, Cadet Uhura. If I can make you more comfortable, I will do so within reason."

"It's just that most people personalize any space they're going to spend a lot of time in. But…I'm not uncomfortable," she seemed to decide in that moment, and she sat back in her chair. "I was just surprised, I suppose, but…it suits you." She finally returned her eyes to her instructor, who sat expressionlessly with his hands resting on his desk.

"Can we proceed to the topic we are here to discuss?" he prompted.

"Yes, of course," she said, picking up her PADD briskly to open a file on her word processor. "I read through the text again and usually I can understand things from reading, but physics is hard for me to visualize. I made a list of topics I would appreciate an explanation of."

Spock relaxed mentally as she began her numbered, organized list. Ordered information, well known concepts, scientific facts…these things soothed his brain. He felt almost comfortable with her in his office; she was much more attentive one-on-one than in a lecture, but she concentrated mostly on the notes she was typing, so he wasn't discomfited by unwanted scrutiny. She liked listening to his voice; she hadn't appreciated before that all of his explanations seemed completely planned and meticulous. Why hadn't this made sense before?

She prompted him to describe a certain piece of equipment more thoroughly than he had before, eager to understand the mechanics. He found the more detailed he became the _more_ interested she was, contrary to most humans he had met. It was as though once she began to comprehend a concept, she wished to grasp it completely. She seemed frustrated not to be able to imagine the communicator; he pulled open his laptop to access a diagram.

Before he could turn the device around, she had stood and slipped around behind his desk. "May I?" she asked, and before he could respond in the negative, she leaned her elbows on his desk to peer at the image. "So these are those coil things you were talking about?" she asked, pointing to a spot on the diagram.

Her scent hit him with a force he hadn't felt since…since T'Pring, the night he returned to Vulcan after so long. But the Cadet's fragrance was lighter, hinted with what he thought was lily, and…much more pleasant. He became distinctly aware of her proximity, and when her hand moved down to the touchpad, she almost touched his fingers. Part of him rebelled against her nearness, telling him it was inappropriate, uncomfortable, and unwanted. But some faction of his brain urged him to close the distance and touch their fingers together, as though his mind felt eager to touch hers. He blinked.

"I'm sorry," she said suddenly, stepping back before he could contact her skin. She looked bewildered. "I made you so uncomfortable. I shouldn't have...I'm sorry."

Nyota felt flustered. She'd experienced a strong feeling of disquietude when her hand had neared his. She couldn't say how she felt it or where it came from, but she knew it was his dislike of her closeness. She'd never seen him more expressive; he looked almost shocked for a moment, and then he frowned minutely before wiping his emotions from his face.

"Am I making it worse?" she frowned. "By saying I could tell?" She flitted around the other side of his desk, sat on the edge of her chair, and peered at him closely.

"It is…alright, Cadet. I was caught by surprise."

"Forgive me…I know my Vulcan etiquette, I've just never had to use it…" Spock was growing more uncomfortable the more she spoke of it. Before he could say anything, however, she said with a sheepish smile, "Okay I'll stop talking now. Shall we start over? Could you spin the laptop around so I can see the diagram better, please?"

Spock surveyed her wide, dark eyes. She struck him as an incredibly sincere person. How had she felt his discomfort so strongly? Had he projected accidentally? But he'd never been a strong telepath; his father had postulated it was because of his human genes, and Spock suspected he was correct. He had never contacted anyone outside his family without contact; of course, he had never tried specifically. But most Vulcan children made telepathic contact with each other quite frequently until the age of seven, often without physical contact. He had never told anyone besides his father and mother, but he felt it was part of why he'd had so much trouble with bullies. Pulling himself back to the present, he turned the computer around carefully and Cadet Uhura studied it without moving.

She hadn't felt his unexpected desire to make telepathic contact, had she? He thought not, as she had said nothing about it. He sat silently as she looked at the computer.

Nyota felt tense, and wished she could read the lieutenant better. She hadn't been thinking when she stood so close to him; had she never learned anything about Vulcan culture? She'd just gotten so comfortable as he explained everything, and was a naturally expressive person; she didn't think anything of standing so close to someone. But he'd obviously disliked it intensely, judging by that strong feeling she'd received. Her covert looks told her he was inexpressive, but she worried he still felt uncomfortable with her. "Is, umm…is this the part that allows the amplification?" she asked, pointing vaguely.

He grasped at the opportunity gratefully, launching back into the explanation they had interrupted. They eased into the facts and descriptions, the tension dissipating with time. It was nearly half an hour later when Nyota's stomach growled and she chuckled.

"I guess I forgot about lunch…"

"Forgive me, Cadet, I meant to work only half an hour so you could eat lunch at your normal hour. I did not monitor my internal clock."

"That's alright. I got caught up in everything…Thank you. I think I understand all of what we went through. I do still have two concepts on my list…"

"You are welcome to return Monday afternoon." She grinned. She had been very worried he wouldn't want her in his office again. "May I ask, Cadet…" he began hesitantly, tilting his head slightly.

Intrigued, she prompted him, "Yes?"

"Do you know why you find it easier to understand one-on-one? I explained much of that nearly the same as in class."

"It's easier to pay attention," Nyota smiled. "And I can ask whatever I need."

"You may ask questions in class," Spock said as she gathered her things together.

"I know. It's just…You're lecturing, and everyone's listening, and I don't want to interrupt everyone else understanding you…Usually I don't mind asking questions, but it's like I understand so little that I can't decide what to ask."

"Other students would benefit from your asking questions, Cadet," Spock said as he stood and caught his hands behind his back.

"I'll keep that in mind," she said tucking her hair behind an ear and standing to leave. "Thank you again, Lieutenant."

"I will see you Monday, Cadet," he nodded.

"Have a good afternoon," she smiled softly as she left.

***

**A/N **I have a few chapters written ahead so I decided to post twice today =) I know, finally some actual Spock/Nyota, haha. Please review to let me know what you think!


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer **I do not own the Star Trek universe; I'm just here to play.

**Chapter Five**

Dr. Ferrous sat in his office in the afternoon trying to complete some grading before calling it a week, as he had no classes left. But he could not concentrate. Alice had just told him she was going out tonight. She was going _out_, _with_ someone. He drummed his fingers on his desk and tried not to frown.

"Dr. Ferrous," he heard a querulous voice call from outside his door.

"Enter," he said, and his favorite student burst in looking frenzied. "Nyota! Are you alright?"

She threw herself into the chair across his desk and glowered. "No," she huffed. "Do you know I planned on having my thesis paper roughly sketched by now?"

"That was a lofty goal, Nyota, which I believe I mentioned…"

"No need to gloat," she frowned. "I need to decide what I'm doing, Dr. Ferrous."

"I thought you had decided on a Romulan/Vulcan project. That's why you're taking my Romulan dialects class and beasting the work—" Nyota nearly giggled, but it was ruined by her breathless stress, "—and it's the secret part of why I got you into Spock's class."

"You did that?" she asked, surprised.

"Of course I did," he grinned, leaning back in his chair. "Nyota, I direct your whole life." He was glad to hear her laugh freely. "I thought it would be good for your science, you need to take that class, he's the kind of guy you'll have to work with on the Enterprise…" Nyota appreciated his use of the future tense as opposed to the conditional. "And he happens to be a good culture study for you," he smirked. "Only don't tell him I told you that. I told him the Enterprise thing, but not the Vulcan thing…I don't know if he'd like being a study."

"You know I don't think he'd mind?" Nyota said, scrunching her nose with amusement. "He'd just ask me to tell him my results."

"You'll have to tell me instead," Ferrous said.

"Ugh, I already ruined it," Nyota said, her eyes widening. "I swear, he was about to kick me out of his office…"

"What did you do?" Ferrous asked, scandalized. "After all the culture we did your freshman year?"

"I know, I know…I came _this_ close to touching his hand," she said, holding her fingers up to show the inches between their skin.

"Nyota!"

"I know! He was so appalled. Oh, I felt horrible. And he still said I could go back next week for more help!"

"What? He didn't say he was uncomfortable, did he?" Ferrous asked.

"No, of course not, he didn't say anything. I just felt this wave of discomfort and realized I was way too close…" Ferrous didn't say anything, but he was surprised. If she hadn't touched his hand, she wouldn't have any way of knowing what the lieutenant was feeling…Perhaps she had brushed his skin and not realized? That was not a good way to start their association. "I will be so much more aware of myself, I promise."

"I'd recommend it. He's a good contact for you."

"Can we get back to my thesis and how I don't have one?" she asked.

"Well are you doing the Vulcan/Romulan project?"

"Yes, I think so. And I still have that translation that I was thinking of doing—"

"What happened to that?"

"That's so _lame_!" Nyota complained. "I can't just do a translation."

"You know it wouldn't just be a translation, you'd need your thesis about it. That can get complex. It's a difficult translation anyways."

"I think it just frustrates me that I won't know what my actual thesis is until I do my translation, but then I can't pick my translation based on how strong the thesis will be…"

"I recommend you work on that early Vulcan text. I think it's a strong translation, and I think no matter what, you'll be able to pull in your ideological Vulcan and Romulan ideas. It's relevant now with all our new social contact with Vulcan."

"Okay," Nyota nodded. "Okay, I'll start it. That makes me feel better."

"Good. Start translating."

"Thanks, Dr. F!" Nyota grinned as she nearly bounced out of his office.

**

"Jim Kirk alert," Nyota announced as she sat with Ling, Jon, and his roommate Toby at lunch. "Remember, Uhura only."

"Why haven't you given this up yet?" Jon complained. "It takes so much effort."

"I've gotten this far. He will not know my name. It's like a dare; I can't back down now," she said just as he swaggered up to the table. "Kirk," she smiled insincerely.

"Uhura, hey, long time no see," he grinned leaning against the table. Nyota tried not to roll her eyes.

"Yeah, too bad you had to go and end it…" she frowned. Jon smothered a snicker.

"Didn't you miss me over the summer?" he smirked. His mussed hair, bleached by the sun, fell over his eyes and looked like he hadn't cut it since before summer break.

"Not particularly," she said lightly. She suspected he had issues at home, and though it was just a vague impression she had, she wasn't so cruel as to push it. She was tempted to make a comment about the farm animals…

"Oh, come on, you didn't pine for my witty conversation the whole long months?"

"I'd think you were too busy wooing the cows around your house to be thinking of me," she pouted; it was too tempting, and she was in too bad a mood.

He laughed. "You do realize you just compared yourself to a cow?"

"I know your predilection for farm animals, Jim. I just assumed…"

"Well, I'd milk—"

"Kirk, don't you have anywhere better to be?" Ling cut in loudly. Nyota looked over at her, impressed. She rarely spoke up around people she didn't know well.

Kirk turned his bright blue eyes to her. "Actually, I really don't," he said, obviously checking her out.

"Get out of here, Kirk," Nyota said, waving him off.

"I just wanted to say it's too bad we don't have any classes together this semester, Uhura. But since you don't miss me…" He shrugged away from the table. "Shall I pick you up at eight tomorrow?"

Nyota laughed and shooed him. "Go on! Find some girl who's willing to be used," she said, suddenly thinking of Gaila and almost laughing.

"I'll be there at eight, then," he threw over his shoulder as he walked away, spotted someone else to harass, and started jogging toward them.

"He's so cute," Jon said, almost complaining.

"Well I'm happy to say I don't think you have a shot, dear," Nyota said to him. "You know he'd just stomp on your heart."

"I know…It doesn't make his eyes any less blue."

"Jon, forget him," Toby said. "Andrew, remember? You like him, you have a shot with him, he'd be good for you?" he reminded his roommate. He turned to Nyota. "I'm trying to make him focus. I think it will increase his chances."

"I'm definitely helping with this plan," Nyota grinned. "That junior in our Rigelian class?" she asked. Jon nodded with a faint blush. "I know him!" she gushed. "Oh, this is so done, Jon! I'm introducing you next week!"

Jon smiled shyly. "Would you?"

"Of course!" It would take her mind off the Sarah issue. "You'd be so cute together. And I know he's single because I heard he broke up with that sophomore over the summer."

"I'll owe you, Ny," Jon smiled.

"No problem," she said. Other people's problems were easier to deal with than her own, after all.

**

Over the weekend Nyota holed up in her room to get a good start on her translation of the Ancient Vulcan text _Ha-kiv t'Verat_. She'd found the text in the library while studying one day the year before and had been unable to discover a satisfactory translation of it. She and Dr. Ferrous had decided it was some type of philosophical, historical, fictional mishmash, which Nyota thought would be incredibly interesting.

She realized as she started that it was actually much more rudimentary Vulcan than she had noticed. Her modern Vulcan helped for some of it, but she had to go back to last year's Traditional Golic Vulcan course, which she'd taken as an extra class, and some Ancient Vulcan. There were many words she wasn't sure about and many words she only knew because of her strong Romulan base; she guessed the text was from just before the break of cultures and reform that came with Surak.

She found it relaxing. The weekend only saw a few pages done; it seemed to be an introduction of sorts. The work was simultaneously satisfying and frustrating, as she felt she made a good start, but had a lot of sections to go back to.

"Only you would stay up working on your thesis the _first_ night you start it," Gaila yawned as she tucked herself into bed Sunday night. Nyota was curled on her bed, the text still open on her PADD as she poured over one of the most difficult sections.

"I'll warn you, you're going to see a lot of this," Nyota smirked. "This thesis has to make me known enough to get on the Enterprise. I'm not wasting any time."

***

**A/N **I actually like Jim Kirk. He has some Daddy issues and is still a bit of jerk at the Academy, but he's a good guy. And he makes a hell of a captain. As for the Uhura/Nyota thing…When I started thinking about it, I realized it would be much more canonical to have everyone call her Uhura; however, I am now so attached to people calling her Nyota that I couldn't do it =P

All of this and subsequent Vulcan language info/words come from either the Vulcan Language Institute (.com/wiki/Category:Vulcan_Language_Institute) or the Vulcan Language Dictionary (/vld/). If you're the least bit interested in Vulcan language and culture, I recommend a visit to the VLI site. It's an impressive project.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer** I don't own anything in the Star Trek universe. Please don't sue me.

**Chapter Six**

"So you're right. Sarah's totally pissed at you," Gaila said as she and Nyota walked to a late breakfast. Gaila didn't have any classes Monday morning and Sub Physics didn't start until 10:00. It was wet, though not raining, and a bit chilly. Nyota pulled the hood of her jacket over her head.

"What convinced you?" she asked, barely interested.

"I saw her in the hall this morning. I said hello and she just made a face and asked where you were."

"That sounds more like she wants me to apologize."

"Maybe. Either way, she looked miserable."

Nyota sighed. "If she breaks up with Brian, she's gonna need some girlfriends, isn't she?"

"Yes. And you know she won't come to me if you two are still feuding, and Ling doesn't have the experience needed to deal with pissy, rejected Sarah."

"You're right. For once," Nyota said teasingly.

"Who are you kidding? I'm always right. I don't know why it still surprises you!" Gaila laughed over her shoulder as she skipped towards breakfast.

**

Spock was eating an uncharacteristically late breakfast at his apartment when he felt a strong spike of distress. He paused in bringing his piece of toast to his mouth. It had to be his mother, as she was the only being he was bonded to besides his father and his half brother. As the latter two had not contacted him telepathically in years, he could logically assume it was his mother.

He calculated the likelihood of the incident being life threatening at approximately 29.5%. He did not sense much fear, though it could be overshadowed by shock; but when this had occurred in the past, it had usually been an emotional event she was unable to contain. Nonetheless, he took out his laptop and opened a channel. Three minutes and forty eight seconds later she answered his call.

"Yes, Spock?" she asked a little breathlessly. There were dark circles under her eyes and her hands seemed restless. "Is something wrong?"

"Not here, Mother." He saw her shoulders relax. "I felt your distress, however."

Her face fell. "Did I let that through? Oh, I'm sorry, Spock. I've been leaving my shields down because—well, because your father's been so closed," she blushed. "I don't want to miss when he lets his shields down a bit. I forgot it would affect you."

"Mother, similar events have occurred before, and it never distressed you to such a great extent." Spock disliked speaking of such personal matters. Growing up with his mother, however, had taught him that discussing things with her helped a great deal in avoiding later, more emotional displays.

"I know, and I hate getting all pushy. But the things he hid never felt this important or upsetting to him."

"What happened 5.3 minutes ago to bother you so acutely?" he asked, cognizant that he needed to leave for Starfleet within eleven minutes.

Amanda gazed at her son. She really didn't want to drag him into this. On the other hand, she had no one else to discuss this with. No self respecting Vulcan would gossip about her marital problems with another. As long as she was on Vulcan, she had to act like a proper Vulcan wife. Since her mother had passed the year before, she didn't have anyone besides Sarek, which contented her most of the time but obviously not for this. So she said, "He told me not to concern myself with his problems. Which, as you know, basically means 'butt out' from him. Usually it wouldn't bother me so much, but having that little part cut off from me has been making me feel…unwanted."

Spock laced his fingers together and said nothing for twenty three seconds. "Keeping this from you does not imply a lack of need or love," he said calmly. "I am sure he will reveal this to you when he deems it appropriate. He still is not always aware of the effect his words have on you." This had been a recurring problem in their relationship. Certain words had different connotations to them; Spock often became interpreter in a strange triangle of experience.

Amanda smiled softly. "Once again you are right, sa-fu. I should be the one teaching you 'sticks and stones…'" She looked at his expressionless face for another moment, then said, "Thank you, Spock. I will talk to you Thursday?"

He nodded and she shut off their connection.

**

His mother's last expression stuck in his head as he went to his Subspace Communicative Physics class. "Sticks and stones…" He had not encountered the idiom before and had not had time to investigate it before he left home. Teaching his class passed illogically slowly as he anticipated returning to his office, though he would have to help Cadet Uhura before he would have time to himself.

She appeared cheerful when she approached his desk at the end of class. "Good morning, Lieutenant," she smiled. She was in considerably higher spirits than on Friday.

"Cadet," he nodded, then picked up his coat and turned to lead her to his office.

Nyota's professor pulled his rain coat tight around him as they stepped outside. "Do you dislike the rain?" she asked, skipping to catch up to his long stride and walk next to him. She didn't want to follow him like the last time.

He paused before saying, "I find I have still not grown to enjoy it, no."

"How often does it rain on Vulcan?"

"Approximately 35 days per year. However, not only does San Francisco have rain more days per year, it also has much higher average humidity."

"And it's the temperature too, right? Even I think it's cold here, and I've heard Vulcan is hotter than Kenya even."

"Considerably, yes," he responded. She couldn't tell if he disliked her small talk, but she continued to chat as they made their way to his office in the Bio building.

She sat comfortably in the chair across his desk and immediately pulled out her PADD. The heat of the room was soothing already. Without his invitation, she said, "For some reason today's lecture made more sense."

"Perhaps it is because you now understand the basics," he replied.

"Yes, probably," she said, tucking her hair behind one ear and curling one leg underneath her. Her body language seemed to indicate that she was more relaxed than she had been last time. Had one visit made her feel familiar with the room? Spock rested his elbows on his desk and steepled his fingers.

"What was the next item on your list?" he asked.

Nyota tried not to be made uncomfortable by his lack of small talk. Just because he got to the point didn't mean he disliked her. Why she felt a need for him to like her was another matter…She shook her head minutely and pulled open her class notes.

His explanations didn't take too long as they'd gotten through most of it the week before. She was disappointed she'd have to leave so soon; sometime between their two afternoons together she'd grown intrigued by his apparent lack of emotion…But then she had a promising thought.

As she placed her PADD in her bag, she turned back to her professor with a curious eye. "Sir, you'd be able to translate Vulcan, wouldn't you?"

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "I believe I would be capable of translating my birth language, yes."

Was that sarcasm? Nyota laughed genuinely at the question she'd asked and his reply.

He watched the amusement on her face and felt a strong wave of…something unidentifiable. It was almost a mix of satisfaction, fascination, and…affection? How strange. He wondered what it would feel like if their minds touched as she laughed…He wanted to make her laugh again.

"Of course, what a silly question," she was saying. "I suppose what I meant to ask was…Well, it seems presumptuous. I've decided my thesis is going to be a Vulcan translation. I started on it last night and there's a lot that I could use help with. You must know Traditional Golic, right?" Without even waiting for his nod, she continued, "I mean, I wouldn't want you to do it or anything, of course, but it would be helpful to have someone to confer with, and I'm sure you would know more roots and such than even Dr. Ferrous…" She ended her rambling meekly and bit her lip. "So…are you too busy to be one of my thesis advisors?" As she asked him, she realized it was way too much to ask. He was a science professor, he would have his own students…He was a genius, which meant he would have no desire to help her with her little presumptuous language project, and he'd only known her for about a week…

"Certainly, Cadet. I will offer my services to assist with your thesis."

Nyota's face broke into a grin. "Seriously? I would appreciate it so much!"

Spock's dark eyes held hers levelly. "Vulcans don't lie," he said.

"Of course," she grinned, determinedly repressing her urge to express her excitement in any physical way. She settled for smiling widely and mentally clapping her hands.

She could stay now to ask him about the sections she'd been struggling with…or she could return to his office a different day. "Can we meet the same time again to discuss it?"

"That will be fine," he nodded.

"If there's anything I can do in return—grading or anything…" She inwardly winced at her words again. What in the world could the lieutenant need her to help with?

He tilted his head. "Perhaps you could translate in return?" Nyota's eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Sir?"

"Could you explain the cultural implications of the idiom 'sticks and stones'?"

Nyota frowned in curiosity but said, "It stands in for the full phrase 'sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me.' I think it's more of a decision than a true statement, but it's meant to make kids disregard verbal insults. Everyone knows words can hurt, but the saying claims that they don't have to." Spock was silent for several moments, presumably mulling over her explanation. She wondered where he'd heard it, and why he'd asked her about it.

And suddenly she got another flash of emotion that didn't feel like her own, this time of comprehension. Before she could examine it, the feeling was gone and Spock was saying, "Thank you, Cadet."

"No problem. Thank you for agreeing to help me, Lieutenant," she said, standing as she recognized his eagerness to dismiss her. "I'll see you Wednesday."

Spock happened to miss the anticipation in her voice as she said it.

***

**A/N** First of all, I wanted to post this last night but wasn't cooperating =/

I know Spock could have looked up the meaning of the idiom, but I think he would appreciate the value of Nyota's cultural interpretation. And maybe a little bit he wanted her to stay a moment longer, hehe.

Please review to let me know what you think! Next we're off to a bit of Spock backstory...


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer** I'm nobody: I don't own anything.

**Chapter Seven **

After lunch in his office Spock decided to meditate. He did not have sufficient time to travel home and return before his afternoon biology lab, but he could clear his mind before having to concentrate on class. He locked his door, pulled out the soft blue mat he kept stored in his office, and placed it in the middle of the floor to sit on. He curled his limbs in beneath himself and closed his eyes gently.

He needed to acknowledge his feelings in order to control them; his father had taught him this long ago. His mind relaxed into thinking in Vulcan and he let his mind go nearly blank for exactly two minutes before turning his thoughts to his mother.

She had said, "I should be the one teaching you 'sticks and stones,'" leaving out "…may break my bones, but words will never hurt me." She was referring to his father telling her not to concern herself with his problems. Something he had said had convinced her she should not let his father's words hurt her; ah, yes, his comment that his father was not always aware of the effect his words had on her. A most logical use of the idiom on his mother's part, then. Cadet Uhura had been quite efficient in her explanation of the phrase.

He was not overly concerned about his parent's miscommunications. His mother was generally patient; he did not know why she was more concerned about this incident than previous ones. He confirmed that he was not carrying any undue anxiety about them; they could mediate their own problems.

He turned his thoughts to Cadet Uhura and her request that morning. It was not illogical that he agree to help with her thesis; Ferrous had requested his assistance, he was a native Vulcan speaker and had quite a bit of language training: indeed, enough to be teaching an advanced language course the next semester. He lingered on his thoughts about Commander Lee assigning him so many classes outside his specialty, but determinedly cast away the confusion and frustration.

His illogic that day lay in his motivations for agreeing to help Cadet Uhura. He had not thought of Dr. Ferrous' request until after agreeing to help. His first thought had been the possibility of spending more time with the cadet, which most prominently presented the possibility of making her laugh again. He had offered his help with the image of her mirth strong in his mind.

He turned again to his other thoughts concerning the young woman. He had meditated on it over the weekend, but found he had been unsuccessful in controlling these thoughts. He had noticed once again how aesthetically pleasing her legs were as she curled them into the chair, and had felt a disturbing mixture of excitement and soothing contentment when he caught her scent again.

He recognized these as inappropriate thoughts about a student. He tried to banish them and replace them with thoughts of her intellect and academic enthusiasm…but these too evoked a _tugging_ in his mind, as though he wished to contact her. He grew frustrated at his inability to control his thoughts, then further frustration at his inability to control his emotions…Spock paused. He had struggled with these loops since childhood. He felt the frustration dissolve and re-centered himself.

His appreciation for human women had increased considerably after breaking his bond with T'Pring. He had noticed almost immediately that his mind grew eager to bond once again, to protect him in case his time came in his twenty eighth year; but he had never felt a pull as strong as the cadet's. This worried him. He disliked being unbonded; it was no wonder humans placed such emphasis on dating and romance. His mind did not like being alone.

If he could not banish his thoughts about Cadet Uhura, he would have to contain them: acknowledge them fleetingly and put them away. Meanwhile, he would, of course, honor his word to help her with her thesis. She deserved his help and Dr. Ferrous had asked that he assist her.

He turned his thoughts back to T'Pring. He still thought his decision had been the morally praiseworthy one; however, it did not ease his situation. He indulged himself in reviewing the memories…

**

His twenty first birthday had been a tense day. He was on summer break, but had remained at Starfleet to complete a research project. None of his fellow cadets had noticed anything amiss, but he had been eager to contact T'Pring the whole day. She disliked having him contact her without warning; he would wait until the evening, when she had said she would check in. He felt no different, and he knew the chance of entering Pon Farr any time that year was 27.45%. Nonetheless, he had to concentrate on controlling his thoughts on it.

He returned to his single dorm early that night and set out his meditation mat a full 17 minutes before T'Pring was going to contact him. He tried to acknowledge and dismiss his slight unease as he knew T'Pring disapproved of his lack of control.

They had not spent much time together since his decision to join Starfleet. She knew of his logical reasons for choosing it above the Vulcan Science Academy, but she had also glimpsed his emotional motivation. He knew she did not countenance his rebellious feelings, but he was unable to hide them from her. They had agreed constant contact would be too distracting as they pursued their separate careers, and the mental shields had become habit for both of them.

Spock wondered how many pairs came to the same agreement. He knew his parents were nearly always connected, even if not completely. But he had no other relationships to compare theirs with. He had been unable to conceal his preoccupation about it, but T'Pring dismissed it. What others did was not their concern.

He cleared his mind as he waited for her nudge, and was prepared when they met. He sat calmly and waited for her to speak; she seemed to be assessing him first. He often felt exposed with T'Pring in his mind; she felt his unease but ignored it.

_You seem well, Spock,_ she said, her voice soothing a primal part of his brain despite his complex feelings concerning her. She was his bondmate, and their minds melted into each other with familiarity.

_I am,_ he replied, letting her explore his day. _I have been anxious_, he confessed, _but I feel no change._

T'Pring acknowledged a vague disapproval of his anxiety; it was a feeling Spock had grown used to receiving from her. _If you enter Pon Farr we will have sufficient time for you to return to Vulcan. Do not be concerned, k'diwa. _Sending a feeling of strength to him, she assured, _I am ready for you._

Spock struggled to contain the feelings he did not wish her to witness. _Thank you, T'Pring. I will contact you if anything changes._

_Very well_, she replied simply, and then both their shields went up. It seemed to have become natural to have them in place now, as though they were rubber bands whose standard position was closed. He let out a large breath and let his emotions flood his brain. He disliked when she called him k'diwa. This was the word his mother used for his father as they sat reading together. This was the word he had always anticipated whispering (and perhaps shouting) during Pon Farr, and which he had never felt applied to his distant relationship with T'Pring. She was not his beloved.

He began thinking in idioms and clichés because he could, because T'Pring disapproved. His mind switched to Standard to accommodate the metaphors. He didn't give an Andorian's antenna if his emotions made her want to jump off a cliff like a lemming, or if his anxiety was the straw that broke the camel's back and sent her packing…Spock took a deep breath. This was false. He did wish to maintain a healthy relationship with T'Pring, and he was grateful to her for her patience. He merely did not enjoy having her so close to aspects of himself he was ashamed of. And he hoped they would not have to experience Pon Farr that year.

**

Spock got his wish; his mother checked in often that year, but he had not experienced Pon Farr. He worked through his last year as a cadet and graduated. His twenty second birthday passed like a breath of relief. He and T'Pring continued as they had for some years, rarely communicating.

The summer after he graduated, Spock was living in an apartment in San Francisco. His mother wanted him to return home, but he hadn't spoken to his father since travelling to Earth four years ago; since then he had yet to visit Vulcan. He knew his mother wished to see him, but he expected it would be easier to find career opportunities with Starfleet if he remained on Terra.

One night, however, T'Pring contacted him unexpectedly. He was eating at the time and felt her tap on his shields tentatively. When he responded, he could feel that she was still concealing something from him; her telepathic skills felt stronger than the last time they had spoken.

_Spock_, she said simply. He gave her the mental equivalent of a nod. _I wish to speak with you, bondmate._ She conveyed just enough of her emotion to reveal how urgent and important this proposed conversation would be.

Understanding immediately, Spock asked against his inclination, _Would you prefer that I return to Vulcan, T'Pring?_

_Yes, Spock, that would be the preferable forum for this conversation._

_Then I will return. I will contact you when I arrive._

_Thank you, Spock._

Spock let his shields rise and noted that she had not called him _k'diwa_ that day.

**

Spock stepped off the airplane from the starbase to his local airport uncomfortably. He did not reveal it, of course, but he felt uneasy. He hadn't been to his home world since leaving for Starfleet. He pulled his rolling Terran suitcase through the quiet crowds until he saw his mother.

She hadn't been able to contain herself. Her face broke into a grin and she almost skipped up to him. Before she could embrace him, he held up his hand and she touched her fingers to her son's. He could feel the excitement, relief, contentment, and love in her greeting through their touch though she simply said, "Hello, sa-fu."

"Mother," he nodded quietly. She dropped their link and began speaking quickly. He relaxed into her rambling and the heat and sun.

"Your father is away," she said quietly, with a slight blush, as they entered the house. He looked around the open, light space almost fondly. "He is with the Council and doesn't expect to be able to come home." She'd looked at him with concern or apology, but he had surveyed her expressionlessly. He had not expected to see his father on this trip. "You're meeting T'Pring tomorrow, yes?" she asked lightly. He nodded in the affirmative. "You must be hungry, Spock. We'll eat," she said, and he watched her move into the kitchen with a grace he'd never quite remembered during his time on Terra. He could enjoy spending time with his mother before seeing his bondmate.

***

**A/N **Sorry to leave it off here…I was hoping to have his recollections only be one chapter, but this is already just about my normal length. I hope you don't mind too much that it was just Spock in this one.

I'm also going to take this opportunity to say that I hope I have some of you in this for the long haul...This thing may become a beast...

Reviews make me happy!


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer** I don't own Spock, T'Pring, Amanda, Sarek…Uhura…Pon Farr…anything…

**Chapter Eight**

Spock walked sedately up the hill behind his house. He had been surprised when T'Pring had asked him to meet her there. It seemed an illogical and sentimental place to meet, where they had spent hours together as children exploring each other's minds and their bond. But perhaps she recognized it as a logically secluded, private place.

T'Pring was already sitting inside the small cave they'd discovered in the rocky hillside as youngsters. She sat with her eyes closed in meditation, her body swathed in loose, flowing clothing. He felt a stronger pull towards her than he'd ever felt as her thick, musky scent hit him and he took in the soft curves of her face and neck. But he didn't move; he stood before her and gently touched her mind, letting her know he'd arrived but allowing her to let him in as she chose.

Thirty two seconds later, she opened her eyes softly, looked up at him, and let him in as he sank to his knees before her.

They sat cross legged across from each other, their knees nearly, but not, touching. Spock reached out his fingers even though their minds were already linked; their long physical separation urged him to touch her. She consented, and his fingers touched her warm temples, sliding into place to reinforce their mental connection.

He felt a _distance_ from her despite their close link. There was a sort of apology in what she had to tell him, but only for the situation, not his emotion…This is what he felt first. He probed further hesitantly, curiously…She allowed him to review her time apart from him, guiding him gently.

She had met someone who she felt suited her better. His name was Tonar and they had met at T'Pring's work at the physics research laboratory. They had more compatible interests and desires, and he had lost his bondmate in a starship accident.

_I cannot separate from you unless I wait for your Pon Farr, Spock._

_I know this._

_I would do so, but Tonar will reach Pon Farr within the year._

Spock sat silently a moment, absorbing. _You wish for me to ask you for a separation._

_We are not well matched, Spock. You are unhappy with me, and will reach Pon Farr later than Tonar. Requesting a separation is the most logical decision for all three involved._

Spock acknowledged this. She was correct. He felt he was not overly upset by her decision, though his sense of being _unwanted_ sunk in deeper.

_It is illogical to feel unwanted because I have found someone with whom I am more compatible,_ T'Pring told him with the closest sensation to gentleness she had ever projected. He made sure she felt his gratitude. _You may have time to meditate alone,_ she told him.

_That will be unnecessary, _he replied. _The situation is clear and your logic is sound. Our separation is the most satisfactory conclusion to this situation._

_I am glad you see it as I do, Spock, though I did not expect anything different,_ she said, and he could feel her satisfaction. _We can seek a healer to complete the separation._

_That will be satisfactory,_ Spock replied, opening his eyes to peer into her dark ones. He realized a human might call her choice of space a _poetic_ place to end their relationship. Her confusion only reinforced his resignation to their decision.

He was not sure who reached the realization first, but they became aware that it was likely to be the last time their minds touched until their permanent separation.

"_Thank you for our years, S'chn T'gai Spock," _she said aloud.

"_And thank you, T'goll M'bat T'Pring,"_ he replied. They nodded to each other, then put up their shields. Spock almost felt nostalgic; but that would be illogical.

**

"Mother, T'Pring and I are separating," Spock said quietly when he entered the house again. Amanda was sitting on the large couch; she held a PADD in her hands, but seemed preoccupied by the view out the large bay window as opposed to the article in front of her. She turned to her son, but didn't say anything at first.

"Would you like to speak about it?" she asked. Spock noted that she did not seem surprised or upset as he had worried she might.

He contemplated her question and sat down beside her. "I am not upset. I expected more displeasure, but mostly I feel…relief." His mother nodded.

"I think that is logical, sa-fu. You were not well matched."

He nodded once. "Thank you, Mother."

She took a deep breath and looked at him for a long moment. "Your father…He will feel he failed you. He already feels he failed you in choosing your bondmate."

"Please tell him I place no blame on him for our incompatibility." Amanda nodded sadly. Spock wished to add that he felt he could not have found a suitable bondmate; that he still did not expect to find anyone he would wish to allow into his mind constantly. That his duality might not allow for a successful Vulcan bond at all, but that he did not blame his parents for this fact. He had been the first successful genetic hybrid, and they did not know what his biological needs would be. Perhaps he would simply have to be content with a human relationship, though the distance he associated with it, the transitory nature of Terran relationships repelled him…But he could say none of this. The Terran metaphor that "the words stuck in his throat" seemed appropriate. He could not speak of it with his mother, so he sat silently, looking out at the Vulcan landscape, as she watched him sadly still.

**

The deep feeling of resignation from that day settled into Spock's mind again as he remembered the following months. He and T'Pring had found a healer and separated three days and five hours after coming to their decision. The process was surprisingly simple. His mind had felt…alone, and exposed. If he dropped his shields, there was nothing there. He did not have to worry about anyone discovering emotions or thoughts of which he was ashamed. His connection with his family members was much looser. His mind had not been so…free since he was seven years old.

But he found sometimes he disliked the freedom. He had no one to contact in excitement or fear; he had not indulged this possibility often when bonded to T'Pring, but he had always been aware of the potential.

And he felt his mind's eagerness for another bondmate. When he returned to Starfleet he noticed human females much more often. Their soft curves or scents caught his attention. He developed a stronger sexual drive than in all his years bonded to T'Pring. He had several transitory relationships before his assignment to the Farragut came. During his two years on the starship, he was generally too busy to have a relationship. He noticed women, but he never felt any compulsion to pursue them or allow the women into his mind.

Until Cadet Uhura entered his Advanced Sub Physics class and stood too close to him. He mistrusted the strong urge he'd felt to contact her mind; he did not know why he felt a stronger pull towards her. He would control it; he had at the minimum one year, nine months, and seventeen days to find a suitable mate for a possible Pon Farr. There was no reason to indulge inappropriate speculations about his student.

Spock opened his eyes and took a deep breath, enjoying his feeling of success before dismissing it to prepare for class.

*******

**A/N **Sorry it's a little short. I wanted to just rap up our journey into Spock's past…Why did I feel this needed to happen in a cave, haha? It kind of just happened…

Also: I have no cool excuse for why this is different from the TOS timeline. I decided to give T'Pring a different lover. Because I wanted to. And who knows where Spock's full name came from? (No seriously, that's not a rhetorical question, haha)


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer **I don't own Star Trek; please don't sue me. I'm just here for entertainment

**Chapter Nine**

"I don't like Tuesdays," Nyota sighed as she watched Gaila paw through her clothes to find something to wear.

"Ny, it's only been like three weeks," the Orion said from inside the closet.

"I have a history of disliking Tuesdays," Nyota informed her. "Remember freshman year they were horrible? I had that Vulcan lecture class all morning, then Bio lab and choir rehearsals at night?"

Gaila's head swung out from behind the door. "Can I borrow your red sweater?" she asked hopefully.

"Okay first of all, I thought I convinced you you look horrid in red. And second of all, no, because I still haven't found it."

"Oh, yeah, that's what you and Sarah were arguing about…Make up with her so I can search through her closet?" she suggested.

Nyota threw a pillow at her. "The more you talk about it, the less likely I am to do it."

"Don't I know it," Gaila said, disappearing back into her clothes. Her voice muffled from inside, she said, "I think we need to go shopping. I have nothing!"

"Gaila, didn't you go shopping over summer break?"

"But you weren't here," she pouted. Nyota felt a stab of guilt. Her friend had stayed on Starfleet campus as she couldn't go home to Orion; sometimes she felt like she was the only one the girl had.

"Alright," she said, "maybe I owe you a shopping trip. This weekend?"

"Yes! Westfield?"

"Sure. But I have to get through my Tuesday first," Nyota scowled.

**

Despite her misgivings, Tuesday passed without incident except for Jon whispering to her that Sarah and Brian had broken up. Nyota was just anticipating her Wednesday afternoon, if she was honest with herself. All Sub Physics class she was trying quite sincerely to listen to Lt. Spock, but she was distracted by something she'd decided to ask him.

When class ended she waved off Jon and Ling. As she watched Sarah duck out silently, she did feel a bit rueful. She knew she needed someone to talk to about Brian; Ling had said they hadn't talked.

"Cadet?" Spock asked from behind her. She put Sarah from her mind and spun to see the lieutenant ready to leave. She smiled and preceded him from the room.

They walked out into the wet together, Spock with his hands behind his back, and Nyota holding her PADD beneath her jacket, as she hadn't brought a bag. She kept her mouth shut as she walked, hoping to keep him in a good mood before she asked her favor, though she wasn't sure it would matter with him…

As they neared the Bio building, the words wouldn't stay in her anymore. She'd been going over them in her mind, sort of nervous about beginning. It wasn't like her, to be apprehensive, but she always felt like she was going to say something ridiculous in front of Lt. Spock.

"Lieutenant?" she began, pulling his dark eyes to her. "Would you mind—Could we speak in Vulcan when we work, so I can practice?" she asked, stumbling over the words even though she had tried to plan them.

He was holding open the door to the building for her, and as she passed him she felt a ghost of an emotion; curiosity, maybe? But his expression was blank as he looked at her. "_If you wish_," he said in his native tongue. "_It will benefit you to practice with a native speaker."_

Nyota tried not to stare. She turned her eyes resolutely down the hallway and willed herself not to launch into speech trying to make him speak again. Actually, she wasn't sure this had been such a great plan, as now she wasn't sure she could make herself speak Vulcan in front of him.

She'd forgotten, over the years, how much she liked the sound of Vulcan spoken by Vulcans. Dr. Ferrous had a decent accent, but he couldn't catch the subtleties of inflection. It would be good for her practice, as he'd said, even if it was intimidating as hell.

As he opened his office door, she realized, and said with minimal thought, "_You must not speak Vulcan very much."_

"_Indeed I do not,_" he agreed, sitting down behind his desk.

"_I miss speaking Swahili sometimes," _Nyota said as she sat down and pulled out her PADD again. She was imagining Spock peaking Vulcan with his family, who she thought of as strict, straight backed, unsmiling people, like the Vulcans in her entry level Vulcan language class textbooks. Oh, but... "_Which of your parents is human?"_ she asked curiously. Immediately afterward, she completely regretted it; she _might_ ask that of a professor if she knew them well, to say nothing of her _Vulcan_, very private professor. She looked up at him with wide eyes, surprised at herself.

Spock raised an eyebrow at her. Few people asked questions about his personal life; most mocked, if anything, and those who asked genuinely waited until they knew him fairly well (namely, his one roommate during his cadet years, and Dr. Ferrous and Prof Cormier (he could include one of the women with whom he'd been involved since breaking with T'Pring, but he had deflected her questions successfully until she stopped asking)). The Cadet's wide eyes suggested that she was curious or that she was surprised; as she had asked the question and he had not yet responded, he suspected the former. Perhaps she was interested about his heritage as a language student.

Nyota was about to apologize when he spoke. "_My mother is human. My father is a Vulcan ambassador."_

Nyota was surprised that he'd given more information than she'd asked for. She smiled and said, "_You must have had an interesting childhood."_

"_That is one word that could describe it,"_ he said, but she felt his uneasiness in another inexplicable empathetic wave. She was sure his face hadn't shown any emotion, but she knew she should not ask anything else about his home life. She changed topics quickly.

"_Please correct my grammar or pronunciation if I make a mistake,"_ she said.

He bowed his head. "_You have the second best pronunciation I have heard from a human, and your grammar has been acceptable,"_ he told her.

She grinned. "_Only second best? And my grammar is acceptable?"_

Spock surveyed her wide smile with interest. Was she teasing him? He tilted his head and hesitated before saying, "_Acceptable compared to a native speaker. Perhaps you would prefer less stringent criteria?"_

Was that a challenge? She wasn't sure, but…she decided to take it as one. Nyota's eyes sparkled. "_Certainly not,"_ she said, tossing her head slightly, but she was still smiling widely. Some part of Spock's primal brain enjoyed having her smiling at him so genuinely.

He raised an eyebrow and asked, "_What did you wish to ask me?"_

"_Here," _she said, pushing her PADD towards him. "_It's that passage I highlighted…"_

She watched him read the section and when he looked back up to her, she started into her issue with one phrase. "_It seems figurative, and it actually makes more sense if I take in a metaphorical way. But I know metaphor has never been a big part of the culture, even before the Surak break, so I'm inclined to disregard the double meaning. So I was thinking maybe I'm missing a different meaning of that word 'mag.'"_

Even Spock could hear the eagerness in her voice; she had slid to the front of the chair to lean on his desk. "_You are using the modern meaning _thirst_?"_ he confirmed.

"_It's a shaky translation, but yes," _she nodded. She knew her Vulcan well; it more accurately meant the physical sensation in the mouth of thirst, but he had simplified. And he noted as she began speaking rapidly again that she seemed comfortable with her speech.

"_So if I assume it means _thirst," she explained, slipping between languages, "then I want it to mean metaphorical thirst, _for success. Stating his _literal thirst_ seems arbitrary. But alternately, mag is such a precise word for the dryness of his mouth that why use mag if it was supposed to be metaphorical?"_

Spock considered the passage. "_I understand your assessment of the passage, but have insufficient information to make a determination. Have you seen the original document in Vulcan characters?"_

Nyota's eyes widened again. "_No," _she said, "_I hadn't even thought of it. I only have the transliterated copy."_ She bit her lip. "_I don't know if I'll be able to find the original…"_

"_It may be helpful in your translation," _Spock suggested.

"_But I don't know the real alphabet very well," _she frowned.

"_I would be able to assist you," _Spock offered. This thesis was going to be involved; the document had dense language. "_What is this document?"_ he asked.

"_Ha-kiv t'Verat," _she said and translated unnecessarily, "Life of Verat. _I don't even know if he's a real person or not, but it's a really interesting mix of fiction and philosophy. And I've already found some Romulan words and cultural references, so I'm excited to see what I can learn about the differences that existed before Surak, if there were any…"_

The Cadet was already become emotionally attached to her project, Spock could see. It was an intriguing human phenomenon he had yet to understand.

She was so glad she'd asked Spock to help her; he would be invaluable as a cultural interpreter. All she had was the information from text books, which usually had little on Vulcan society besides impressing the importance of privacy and logic, and Nyota knew books were poor teachers of culture anyway. Her translation would be so much better with a Vulcan around to help her interpret it all…

"_Do you want me to look at anything else?"_ he asked. She shook her head.

"_I'm hungry, so I think I'll go to lunch. But can I come back if I have something to ask you about?"_ she asked, feeling daring.

He bowed his head. "_If you stay after class, I will know you have something to ask."_

Nyota smiled softly, soaking in the heat of the room. She would keep her dorm room almost this warm, but Gaila would kill her. She looked forward to coming back; she would get to explore that bookshelf sometime, she promised herself.

"_Thank you, Lieutenant," _she said standing. "_I'll look for that original document."_ He just nodded and watched her ponytail swing as she left.

***

**A/N** Are the language conversations too boring? I'm having fun mixing canon with made up facts about the Vulcan language (it's mostly real, don't worry); but if it's too much, I can tone it down. Please review and let me know!


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer** I don't own Nyota, Gaila, Spock, Starfleet, or, indeed, the Westfield Mall, which is a real place. I do my research, kiddies =D

**Chapter Ten**

On Saturday Nyota and Gaila took a trip to the Westfield Mall, towing Ling along with them. The three girls piled happily into a taxi to reach the three story building and Gaila led them past all the made-up store fronts.

"What are we here for?" Ling asked as Gaila skipped along in front of them.

"Clothes," Nyota replied. "Gaila will never reach a point where she thinks she has enough clothes." As she said it, her roommate ducked into a clothing store. As soon as Nyota turned into the doorway, a t-shirt was thrust into her face. She batted it down. "Gaila, what the hell?"

"You know who would love this?" she asked, still dangling the garment in front of Nyota. She inspected it; the front pronounced, 'I avoid clichés like the plague.' She rolled her eyes.

"Mory!" Gaila answered her own question. "You know, because she likes language jokes?"

"This wasn't the _main_ reason you made me take you to the mall, was it?" Nyota asked as Ling giggled.

"Of course not," Gaila batted her eyes.

Nyota sighed. "Okay. Okay, I'll do it, I'll apologize. But not with _that_," she scoffed. "Come on," she said, grabbing Gaila's arm and tugging her behind.

**

Nyota knocked on the door to Sarah's single, hoping she'd be in. If she knew Sarah, she wouldn't feel like going out partying immediately after breaking up with her boyfriend. She was right; Sarah opened the door.

The shorter girl scowled and demanded, "What do you want?"

Nyota grimaced. "To apologize. If one of us doesn't do it, we won't speak again, and then who am I going to tell about my boy troubles? You know Gaila won't tell me if I'm going for the wrong guy."

"You mean then who am I going to tell about _my _boy troubles?" Sarah said, the fight drooping out of her shoulders.

Nyota held up what she held in her hands. "I brought presents," she said hopefully.

Sarah pulled open the door. "Then you're definitely allowed in," she half smiled.

Relief washed through her. "Am I forgiven then?" she asked as she stepped inside. The room looked quite pitiful, like Sarah hadn't left since Wednesday besides to go to class (she was too conscientious to actually skip).

"Yeah, of course," Sarah said, flopping back onto her rumpled sheets. "I don't know why I was so mad at you anyways. I think I was just feeling pissy."

"Okay, I can confirm that part," Nyota laughed as she held out her peace offerings.

"Aww, Ny…you're so great," Sarah said, taking the proffered ice cream, paper book, and wrapped gift. "You got me stuff after I was bitchy?"

Nyota shrugged. "I figured you could use it. Look at the book—I think you'll enjoy," she grinned.

Sarah turned to the back cover and read, "A story of revenge and the power of woman…Anna Sedaris spins a tale of a woman who turns heartbreak into strength to get back at the men who hurt her." She gave a skeptical look at Nyota, who laughed.

"We happened to pass it in the mall today. How could I have passed that up?"

"Okay, you couldn't," Sarah acknowledged, throwing it to the side and picking up the wrapped present. "What's this?"

"That's from Gaila," Nyota warned.

"It's not…unsavory is it?" she asked, making Nyota laugh again.

"No, it's just silly. Go on, open it." Sarah ripped apart the paper to pull out the clichés t-shirt Gaila had found. She laughed.

"I'll have to wear it tomorrow," she grinned. "Oh, you guys are awesome."

"Even though I abandoned you for days?" Nyota asked.

"I kind of pushed you away…"

"Well, I'm sorry for not noticing. And for not coming sooner."

"Alright, we're even. Enough of this cheesy crap." She threw her t-shirt onto the pile of clothes on her floor and picked up the ice cream. "We'll need—" Before she could finish, Nyota pulled out two spoons from her bag.

"I came prepared, honey." Sarah grinned. "Now, Mory, start your tale," she instructed, settling into Sarah's pillows.

**

Sarah was just finishing her explanation of the fight she and Brian had had when someone knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" Sarah called warily.

"Me," Gaila said, peeking her head in the door. "Have you two kissed and made up?"

"Yes."

"Then I am searching your closet, Mory," Gaila announced, and she pushed open the door, marched over to Sarah's closet, and started digging.

"What are you looking for?" Sarah asked.

"My red sweater," Nyota replied. "I never found it."

"But Gaila, you look horrid in that sweater."

As Nyota laughed, Gaila muttered, "Well, I'll never complain that my friends don't tell me what they really think."

"I'm pretty sure it's not in there, Gai," Sarah said skeptically.

"Won't hurt to look," the Orion said cheerily.

"Sarah, you didn't finish. That was the fight I didn't notice you had, right?"

"Yeah, but there's not much more to tell. We didn't talk much after that until Tuesday night, when he messaged me to say he 'didn't think we were going to work out,'" she mocked, her fingers making quotes in the air around her words.

"He did not!" Gaila exclaimed incredulously, abandoning her search and plopping down on the end of the bed.

"He didn't even come talk to you?" Nyota asked.

Sarah scraped at the sides of the ice cream container and shook her head. "Nope. I haven't even seen him since Sunday."

"Oh, honey," Nyota said. Sarah just shrugged.

"I'm fine now, actually. I mean, a little part of me hates his guts, but other than that…"

"He didn't deserve you," Nyota said. "I know it's a cliché, but apt."

"I knew you would say that," Sarah grinned. "Here, you want the rest?" she asked, holding out the nearly empty pint container. When Nyota shook her head, she spooned up the rest and finished it. "Nothing like a little ice cream to make a girl feel better about her love life," she laughed only slightly sarcastically. "Oh, and Gaila, I love my shirt," she remembered.

"I knew you would," the Orion grinned. "And you told me it was ridiculous, Ny."

"It is," Sarah said, "but that doesn't mean it's not a great present."

"You're welcome. Hey, can we stick around for a while?" Gaila asked. "Jon was dorking with our AC and now our room is freezing. We have to wait for the tech guy to come fix it."

"I thought you were good at fixing crap like that?" Sarah said.

"Nyota won't let me try," she pouted.

"Remember last year when she tried to fix our plumbing? I think her talents are limited to computers," Nyota reasoned.

"Of course you can stay. We can make a night of it. Anyone up for some old school Disney?" Sarah suggested.

The other girls nodded and they huddled around Sarah's PADD to enjoy a low-fi, un-PC musical just like the in the good old times.

**

Spock was walking to the dining hall when he saw Dr. Ferrous and Prof Cormier on a path perpendicular to his own; they appeared to be traveling to the dining hall as well. He adjusted his steps so that they crossed onto the main walkway at the same time, and he fell into step beside them.

"Hey, Spock," Prof Cormier said. "On your way to dinner?"

"Yes."

"We were going there too," Ferrous said, "but…we could go out. Alice and I both like that Indian place a few blocks away, but we haven't been together yet."

"I am agreeable," Spock said, but he noticed Alice blushing.

"Actually," she said, "I was only going to eat something light…"

Ferrous looked at her quickly. "You're going out with that Mike guy again?" he nearly demanded. Her flush deepened.

"So what if I am?"

"You said you didn't like him that much!"

Spock realized he was witnessing a conversation Prof Cormier did not want him to hear. She glanced at him sideways as she bit her bottom lip the same way Cadet Uhura did.

"We had fun," she said defensively.

"You said you weren't compatible," Ferrous said, frowning.

"Yes, well, he asked me out again, and I figured there'd be no harm in it," Prof Cormier said. She took a few steps backward. "I change my mind, I don't think I'll eat until later," she said politely before turning around to leave the two men standing uncomfortably behind her. Just before she got out of ear shot, she said over her shoulder, "I don't know why you care anyways, George."

Spock watched her walk away, waiting for Ferrous to move. The other man ran a hand through his graying hair. "Well that was kind of immature on both of our parts."

Spock looked over at the older man. "In my limited observations of Terran relationships, I have found that attraction often suspends humans' maturity and reasoning."

Ferrous looked over at him with raised eyebrows. "Who said I'm attracted to her?"

"I inferred from your emotion at her dating another man and from your apparent investment in her romantic life that some level of attraction is present. If I am wrong, please excuse my supposition."

"Damn, maybe I should try that logic and reason thing sometime," Dr. Ferrous said as he began walking toward the dining hall again. "Seems like you've got people pretty much figured out."

"On the contrary," Spock said, catching his hands behind his back, "I generally find humans quite difficult to understand. I estimated a 67% chance of my hypothesis being correct."

Ferrous laughed. "Well, it's right anyway," he admitted. "Only don't tell her," he said earnestly. "Gods, I feel like I'm in middle school, swearing you to secrecy about it…" Spock said nothing. "Just forget you know, alright?"

"I cannot literally forget something I have learned, but I can refrain from speaking of it."

Ferrous laughed. "Good answer. Now can we go have dinner?"

"Certainly," Spock agreed, and he and George proceeded companionably to the dining hall.

"Nyota came to talk to me the other day. She said you suggested finding the original document."

"I did."

"It's a good idea. I'm ashamed I didn't think of it."

If Spock had been human, he would have shrugged. "I believe it will help."

"She hasn't done much with the original alphabet. I know she knows it, but not very well, I think."

"I will be able to assist her," Spock said.

"I'm glad you're so willing to help her. I was worried you wouldn't really see any reason to help, since she's a language student," Ferrous said as he pulled open the door to the dining hall.

"She is intriguing," Spock replied truthfully.

Ferrous gave him a look Spock was unable to decipher. "Good. As long as it means she'll get more help on that thesis than I can give her…"

Spock nodded and as they got in line to buy dinner it was too loud to continue speaking.

***

**A/N **So it was a bit of a fluff chapter, I hope you don't mind. I have to admit my next updates will also be a little slow in coming, as I'm very busy for the next couple of weeks, but I'll do my best to keep up. Reviews help me keep going ;)


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer** I don't own it, I just like to play around…

**Chapter Eleven**

Nyota really hadn't meant for it to become quite such a regular thing, the going to Spock's office after class. But she found she had something to ask the lieutenant after every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday in the following weeks. She reasoned it was because she was so eager to get through her translation of _Ha-kiv t'Verat;_ what she didn't acknowledge to herself was that she might not have been quite so motivated if not for the need to find things to discuss with Lt. Spock. After class she lingered in her seat; Jon, Ling, and Sarah didn't comment anymore. She and Spock walked to his office, and she got used to late lunches.

Nyota spent quite a bit of time searching for an original copy of _Ha-kiv t'Verat, _but had yet to find one within her reach. There was one privately owned in Japan, and the recently constructed Vulcan culture museum in Egypt seemed to have at least part of a copied manuscript. But she was surprised to even find these on Earth, considering it was a rare, ancient Vulcan text. She began to despair of ever finding a copy.

And then it happened. She was at the library ("The Academy does have a physical library; you know that, Nyota, right?" Dr. Ferrous had said. It had sort of slipped her mind as a possible solution, she had to admit.), sorting through the online catalogues. She thought it was just silly that she had to go to the library in order to use a clunky old desktop computer; why couldn't she have access to this remotely from her PADD? But the young librarian, who had introduced himself as Marcus, seemed eager to explain; it didn't look like he got many students in looking for help.

"Mostly it's a security thing. We don't allow access to our records on rare manuscripts off site. It helps us keep track of who's looking at the information." That explained the Spanish Inquisition she'd had to endure about her project before he would let her start searching. "It would be too easy for criminals to access valuable information about whereabouts."

He recommended looking at their wider network of catalogue information, leaned over Nyota's shoulder to scan her results, and pointed one out. She noticed he was standing a bit closer than strictly necessary and tried not to smirk. "There, try Oteru University. Egypt has a big interest in Vulcan culture, and they have a strong language department."

Nyota clicked on the link and started exploring. Librarian Marcus (as she had dubbed him) remained over her shoulder, seemingly drawn into her project because of the nature of her search. She was surprised by how difficult it was to find what she wanted, even with a search function on their library. "It must be under security there, too," Librarian Marcus muttered as he pointed out a promising trail. "We've only gotten this far because we're on a library computer." It was almost a full half hour later when she spotted a link marked _Ha-kiv t'Verat._

"Aha!" Marcus whooped.

"Wait, I've found these before. Sometimes they're just general information about how rare it is and how no one has a copy…" Nyota said hesitantly.

"Yes, but were they part of a library catalogue?" he asked, reaching around her to take control of the touchpad, slide the pointer over, and click.

Nyota held her breath, and then both of them broke into grins as they read. Oteru University had a full manuscript _and_ a fully detailed copy available to students.

"Yes," she exclaimed. Marcus held up a hand and she high fived him with a laugh.

"Success," he agreed.

"But does that also mean students at Starfleet Academy?" Nyota wondered aloud, hovering the mouse over the words "available to students." What a vague statement.

"We may have to pull some strings," Librarian Marcus mumbled, deep in thought. Nyota thought she saw a spark of challenge in his eye. "Do you have any leverage?" he asked her.

Trying not to giggle at his sincerity, she pondered the question. "I don't know if it matters, but Lt. Spock is helping me. He's—"

"—half Vulcan, yeah. Hmm," Marcus nodded.

"And I was born in Kenya. My mom might have connections in Egypt from her work in the Kenyan government."

"That's good," he said. "They might let you see it as a citizen of the United States of Africa…"

"I'll talk to her. Can you contact Oteru U?"

"That I can," Librarian Marcus replied. "I'll get on it, and I should be able to find your email to let you know. Or would you give me your number?" He looked at her slyly.

Nyota chuckled. "Sure, Librarian. I'll give you my number." She took his proffered comm and put her number in, then thanked him.

"That's what I'm here for, though most people forget," he grinned. "I'll talk to you later."

"Yeah. Let me know when I can send my own request," she said, and left to go tell her professor the exciting news.

**

Nyota bounced on her heels as she waited outside the door. "Enter," she heard from the calm, sedate voice within. The door whooshed open and she rushed in grinning.

"I found it!" she exclaimed. Spock, who was sitting at his desk with his laptop open before him and his hands resting on either side of it, blinked. "I think I can get the manuscript!"

"Good," he nodded simply. "When will it be in your possession?"

"Well, I don't know," Nyota said, shifting on her feet, her grin fading. "We still have to get it from the University that has it. But it took so long to find it, I'm so excited."

Spock was not excited. She wanted him to be excited; he was killing her buzz.

"Let me know when you have it, and we can begin working with it," he told her. Nyota frowned.

"Yeah, I will. I'm going to go tell Dr. Ferrous. I'll see you later, Lieutenant," she said and spun on her heel to leave again.

Spock tilted his head. Her emotions had changed quickly in the time she had stood in his office and he suspected it was because of him. Had he handled it incorrectly? He did not fully understand the connection of _excitement_ with _success_. Indeed, he was fairly sure he had not experienced what humans called excitement, because he never felt compelled to celebrate in such a demonstrative way. But his perfectly practical, sensible responses had apparently not satisfied the cadet. He was quite sure she would not have left so quickly if he had shared her enthusiasm.

He decided to find a compromise in which he could make sure she maintained her enthusiasm. It made her smile quite appealing.

**

Nyota ran across campus to the language building, letting her excitement build again. She knew Ferrous would appreciate the discovery.

On her way upstairs she met her bio professor from freshman year, Prof Cormier. She knew she and Dr. F were close friends, and assumed she had come from his office.

"Hey, Prof Cormier," she said as they met on a landing.

"Hi, Nyota," she nodded. Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes, and the young teacher kept walking downstairs even though Nyota paused. She watched the professor continue downstairs curiously, but shrugged and bounded up towards Dr. Ferrous' office.

He let her in right away, but in the second before he saw it was her, Nyota saw concern on his face. Had something happened with Prof Cormier? But when he saw her, his face broke into a grin.

"Nyota! What's up?"

"I found it! You were right, I went to the library and there's a copy in Egypt I might be able to get."

"Yes!" Ferrous laughed, clapping his hands together. "Nice job! Where is it exactly?"

"Oteru University. The librarian has to send a request and then I can send one, and hopefully they'll let me work with the copy they have."

"That's great, Nyota. You can work through all those uncertain parts with Lt. Spock."

Nyota nodded. "Can I mention the two of you are helping me when I ask to use it?"

"Of course, although his name will probably be more helpful than mine," Ferrous shrugged. "I doubt they'll know me in Egypt, but with their interest in all things Vulcan, they may have heard of Spock."

She nodded and sat down in the chair across his desk. "I can't tell what he thinks of me," she said frowning. "Sometimes I think it's just because he's Vulcan, but sometimes he seems really distant."

"It's probably just his Vulcan heritage," Ferrous assured her. He knew Nyota's need to be liked; this was why he had introduced her to Spock in the first place. "Just because he's professional doesn't mean he doesn't like you," he smirked.

"It's not like he doesn't like me," Nyota mused, "it's more like he doesn't care."

Ferrous shrugged. "I wouldn't say he acts like he's having fun when Prof Cormier and I spend time with him, but he still seeks out our company."

Nyota nodded. "Hmm. I just feel bad sometimes, because it's like he gets no enjoyment out of life."

"I wouldn't say that, Nyota," Ferrous frowned. "You have a lot to learn about other species if you think that just because he doesn't express enjoyment the same way as us means he is unfeeling."

Nyota nodded again thoughtfully. "I suppose that's very true," she agreed quietly. Suddenly she stood up. "Sorry, Dr. F, I have to go. I'll see you on Tuesday."

She left his room pensively and quickly retraced her steps back outside, across campus, into the Bio building, and to Spock's office. She hesitated, but the door had already recognized her presence and chimed within.

"Enter," came his voice again. She bit her lip and walked in.

"Hello again, Lieutenant," she half smiled. His face was impassive, but she felt a ghost of curiosity.

"Cadet," he nodded.

"I, umm…Sorry I left so quickly. You weren't excited, so I left, but…I meant to ask you about the alphabet."

She had come back; he felt he would never understand human impulsiveness. He gestured that she should sit.

"Do you have the time on hand? Is it okay if I stay?" she asked, hesitant.

"I am not doing anything that cannot be postponed. If you would like to stay and talk about the alphabet we will be working on, you may." Nyota smiled and sat. Spock paused momentarily before adding, "I did not congratulate you on your accomplishment of finding the document. Good work."

Nyota grinned and Spock felt a satisfaction in it. "Thank you, Lieutenant." He nodded. "So your bet is on it being written with the classical alphabet, right?"

"If they have one of the original documents, yes. That is the alphabet Vulcan used during Surak's time, and if your hypothesis about its age is correct, then it will be written with those characters."

"I've really only worked with the media alphabet. Is it very different?"

"In many ways, yes. But you should be able to…make the leap," he said with a tilt of his head.

"You used an idiom!" Nyota noted, amused. "I don't know that I've ever heard you use one before."

Spock's eyebrow raised and she tried not to giggle. "Perhaps that is because we mainly speak in Vulcan," he suggested.

"Oh, I forgot," Nyota said, wrinkling her nose. "_We can switch back. I always assumed you didn't really know…Is there a word for _idioms_ in Vulcan?"_

"'_Idiom' has become the accepted word by necessity since contact with Terra. And to the contrary, I am perfectly capable of understanding most idioms, having grown up with a human mother and having spent eight years, nine months, and seventeen days on Earth."  
_

"_Oh, well, excuse me," _Nyota said, eyes sparkling. "_But that does not explain why you've never used one in class, where you only speak Standard."_

"_In class I am explaining scientific concepts, which do not require idioms for clarity,"_ he said matter-of-factly.

"_Well, neither did what you just told me," _Nyota reasoned. She was starting to feel a sneaking suspicion that he had used it only for her benefit, but she wasn't sure she should trust it.

"_I see that my use of an idiom has sidetracked our conversation unnecessarily; I will cease the experiment."_

This time Nyota did giggle; Spock experienced the same satisfaction and amusement he had last time, but the feeling was too brief.

"_No, don't," _she grinned. "_I want to see if I notice it every time. I don't think I use them that much, because I have to translate so often to other languages."_

"_Indeed you use them quite often, Cadet," _he disagreed. "_You have used two in this visit to my office."_

"_Really? Okay, then, I will try to use fewer and you can try to use them without my noticing," _she grinned.

"_Is that a challenge, Cadet?"_

"_Yes, Lieutenant, I think it is."_

***

**A/N **Why Egypt? I'm not really sure. I wanted it to be in Africa and I've always thought Egypt's a pretty cool place. So why not? Also, I sort of love Librarian Marcus. I'll warn you, we're going to see more of him…

I hope their banter is as satisfying for you as it is for me, haha! I'm sorry for the long delay; one more busy week, but I think this coming weekend I will finally have some more time! Thanks for sticking around. Reviews make my day!


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer **I don't own anything you recognize (wait, that doesn't work for my regular readers, does it?...)

**Chapter Twelve**

"Idiom."

Nyota looked up at him indignantly. Spock looked quite calm, with his hands folded together on his desk next to her PADD, his dark eyes blinking at her sedately. She was surprised he had shortened the accusation to just one interjection; then again, he was efficient with his words.

"Nu-uh! What did I say?" she asked.

"_You said his situation_ changed for the better. _That is an idiom."_

"I don't know…" Nyota frowned, leaning back in her chair and immediately forgetting the piece of story they had been discussing. "Maybe, but…Doesn't his situation literally change into something better?"

"No," Spock said simply. Nyota laughed; though he didn't know why, he felt satisfied anyway. "It does not occur literally. 'Change for the better' is definitely a figure of speech."

"Well, then, I argue that 'figure of speech' is an idiom!" Nyota laughed, her eyes sparkling.

Spock resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her, and wondered if it would amuse her. "'Figure of speech' is the name for the use of metaphor, sayings, and all other wordings in English that do not make sense," he argued.

"It's as much an idiom as change for the better!" Nyota laughed.

Spock's door chimed and she saw his lips twitch as he said calmly, "Enter." She was still grinning in amusement when Dr. Ferrous walked in.

"Hey, Dr. F!"

"Ferrous."

"Spock. Nyota, I didn't expect you to be here," he nodded as he entered. The two of them looked…amused. Even Spock, if he was not very much mistaken, had a sort of…satisfaction on his face. It was subtle, so he might have been imagining it…but it too closely mirrored Nyota's grin. He peered at them curiously as he walked to Spock's desk.

"Here," he said, placing a packet of papers on Spock's desk. "Lee asked me to bring these over to you. Why I couldn't email them I have no idea…You must have to sign something for him."

Spock nodded. "Very well," he answered, his face now completely impassive. Nyota was peeking at it covertly, intrigued.

"You two working on the translation?"

"Yeah, although mostly today we've been talking about the story. It's good," Nyota told him. She glanced over at Spock, who was studying the papers before him, when she felt a twinge of…exasperation? She was getting better at identifying the emotions… "What is it?" she asked him.

His eyes flickered up to hers and he shook his head minutely. "Commander Lee overestimates my language abilities. I have not had extensive training, yet he wishes me to take on new responsibilities in the department."

Ferrous looked between the two of them, confused. Why had she asked him about anything? His facial expression had not changed at all…And then Nyota exclaimed what sounded like "Idiom!" triumphantly.

Spock nodded to her. "Granted, though weak. I have expressed to him that I do not think myself qualified to teach advanced classes."

Ferrous tried to ignore what he didn't understand, and grasped at what he finally could comment on. "Spock, you may not be qualified to Vulcan standards, but you have the equivalent of a Terran university concentration, at least."

"I didn't know that," Nyota said, eyebrows raised.

"That is why I can speak intelligently about diction, syntax, and comparative Vulcan and Standard," Spock said, placing the papers on his desk.

Nyota peeked over at them while she answered, "I'm sure you could anyway, but I'd like to hear about your education in languages…" The front page appeared to be a course description of Advanced Phonology, a class she had taken the previous semester; interesting…

"Well, you two can talk about that," Ferrous said, taking a step back towards the door. "I have to get going."

"Ooo, what time is it?" Nyota wondered, leaning forward to look at her PADD. "1300 already? I should go," she said, standing.

"I will see you in two days, Cadet," Spock nodded. "Ferrous."

"I'll see you later, Spock," Dr. Ferrous said, and he waited for Nyota to gather her PADD and bag so they could leave together.

"So you're working well together?" he asked as they walked through the Bio building.

Nyota nodded happily. "Yeah, he's really helpful. I like having someone to talk to it about."

"I'd like to see what you've been doing," he said, holding open the door for her. "You haven't been by in a while."

"Sorry, I've been busy," she apologized. "I can show you tomorrow before class though," she said excitedly.

"Cool," he grinned. "I'm headed this way," he said, gesturing with his head toward the language building, "so I'll see you tomorrow, Nyota."

"Bye Dr. F!" she smiled, then turned her steps toward the dining hall; she was starving.

"Hey, you," she heard as she hurried in to grab some fruit. Turning, she saw Sarah waving her over to a table.

"Why are you in here?" she asked as she starting peeling an orange. Sarah shrugged.

"I was hungry."

"No company?"

"Not until now. Sit down. How's your Vulcan?" she asked.

"The Vulcan is good," Nyota smirked as she sat in the red vinyl seat across from her roommate. Sarah leaned her head on a hand. "You should hear him talk about the philosophy of it. I never would have expected him to be such a beast at finding symbolism."

"Really?" Sarah asked, stealing one of the orange wedges. "Doesn't sound very Vulcan of him."

"You okay, Mory?" Nyota asked, surprised by the tone of her friend's voice. "You sound tired."

Sarah rolled her eyes, cracked a smile, and lifted her head. "It's the monster you've created by getting Jon and Andrew together. I hung out with them last night. I don't know how two people can have so much energy!"

Nyota laughed. "They are so great together. I'm proud of myself." Sarah just shook her head. Nyota's comm buzzed and she dug it out of her bag. "Oh! It's Librarian Marcus!" she grinned. He'd already messaged to tell her he'd sent the request, and she'd been looking forward to hearing about it. "Mind if I take it?"

"Are you asking me if you can talk to the cute librarian?" Sarah asked. "Because the answer is clearly yes."

Nyota answered the comm cheerily. "Uhura here."

"Hey, Nyota, it's Marcus."

"Any good news for me, Librarian?" she asked.

"Actually yes," he replied, obviously smiling on the other end. "They messaged me to say they'd be happy to see your proposal."

"Sweet," Nyota said, making Sarah smile in understanding. "I'll send it off and let you know."

"Great," he said. "Maybe you could let me know on Halloween, when you come to the Academy party with me?" he asked. Nyota could just hear his half smile.

"I thought it was for students only," she said, purposefully avoiding his question.

"I take classes," he laughed. "I'm not just here to be a librarian. And don't skirt the question."

"He asked you out, didn't he?" Sarah mouthed at her. Nyota nodded and grinned at her, rolling her eyes slightly.

"Yeah, alright. I'll go with you," she agreed, watching Mory shake her head.

"Awesome. Listen, I got to go, I'll talk to you later, Nyota."

"Bye, Librarian."

"Where are you going with him?" Sarah asked as Nyota closed the comm.

"Just the Halloween party," Nyota replied, popping the last orange wedge in her mouth.

"You're gonna drag me to it again, aren't you?" Sarah complained.

"Yup," Nyota grinned. "Just like last year. Didn't you have fun?"

"Oh, yeah, watching everyone else get drunk and seeing all the girls dressed like sluts was a blast, Ny."

"Oh, you know you had a good time," Nyota dismissed her. "You met that guy Milok, remember? What ever happened to him?"

"He was a jerk," Sarah shrugged. "But I guess we had a good time that night."

"Exactly! Which is why you are so going again this year!"

Sarah smirked. "I wonder if Spock will chaperone," she said, wiggling her eyebrows.

"First of all, I don't know why you mention it," Nyota said, chin tipping up, "and second of all, I don't know if anyone on Terra could get him to go to a Halloween party."

"Besides you, you mean," Sarah said.

"What do you even mean?" Nyota laughed. "I'm just trying to imagine him in a costume and totally can't!"

"You know he'd go if you were," Sarah said matter-of-factly. Nyota honestly did not know why she said it; her smile slid off her face.

"What?"

"Oh, come on, Ny," Sarah said, raising her eyebrows. "We all know you're just eyeing each other up when you spend hours of your time in his office together."

Nyota's jaw literally dropped. "You really think that?"

"Why else would the two of you work so often on a thesis you have all year to do? You don't actually need that much input from him, do you?"

"No, seriously, Mory," she said, "it's not like that. He's Vulcan, never mind my professor."

"What about the weird emotion thing? You don't even doubt them anymore."

"I don't know what it is, but it doesn't mean anything," Nyota insisted.

Sarah studied her for a second. "Alright," she finally shrugged. "I know your honest innocent eyes when I see them. I've seen your fake ones too often not to," she grinned. Nyota looked back at her sheepishly. "Wanna go back to your dorm? We've got some time for homework before afternoon lab…"

**

Nyota forgot about Sarah's comment for the rest of the day, as she was pretty busy. But at one o'clock when Gaila shut off her light and said goodnight, her mind wandered back to their conversation and the half Vulcan she had been spending so much time with lately…

She'd told Sarah the truth. She didn't think there was anything in their working together or even in her weird emotional sensitivity. She had decided it was real, but also that it probably had more to do with her than any connection between them. She kind of liked it, because it let her know when she was being obnoxious or when he was stressed before she got there, or whatever. She hadn't really even thought about it lately; it had become normal.

And yeah, she occasionally noted how attractive he was; she still hadn't gotten over his black-dark eyes or cheekbones or the gentle curve of his browbone under his sloped eyebrows…But she didn't think it meant anything. He was still cool, a bit distant, if more familiar and maybe relaxed, in her company. He never hinted or flirted or brushed her hand, or even gave her a look.

_But what if he just doesn't flirt that same way?_ a small voice asked in the back of her mind. _Remember what Dr. Ferrous said about his enjoying life…_

_Oh, shut up, _said the other side of her brain. _He is your professor, Ny, and probably the most professional one at Starfleet. Don't be ridiculous._

She tried to imagine that Gaila had made the suggestion. In that case, she would have dismissed it as ridiculous immediately. But it had been Sarah, which she guessed was part of why her brain was rebelling against her and _actually_ considering this an _actual_ concern…

Nyota rolled over, frustrated. She had known she looked forward to seeing him, to hearing his opinion on things; but she'd never thought about…well…having any sort of "relationship" with him. She wrinkled her nose in the dark. That sentence didn't even make sense. But now she couldn't get the image of his dark eyes trained on hers out of her head.

Damn Sarah. She shouldn't even be thinking about it because he clearly did not see her in that way even remotely, abstractly…

Right?

She rubbed a hand against her eyes and tried to clear her mind so she could fall asleep; she didn't succeed for a while.

***

**A/N **For the record I think Spock's right about change for the better…I am so much more aware of idioms in my life now…

I think Academy students would swap between military and standard time; it's a transition between regular life and a possible military(esque) career, so I think both would be perfectly understood. Plus I think a more connected world would be more likely to use twenty four hour time anyways.

So sorry about the delay! I think I'm through my busiest time for now, so I'll do my best to keep writing away! Thanks for sticking around and please review!


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer** All credit to all appropriate people…

**Chapter Thirteen**

"I am not going as a cat," Nyota scoffed. She and Sarah were on their way to Sub Physics, hoods pulled firmly over their heads. "I did that freshman year, along with like ten other girls."

"Alright, fine, you come up with something more creative," Sarah rolled her eyes. "It has to be something good. I have a feeling about this librarian guy…"

Nyota didn't reply as they ducked into the Physics building out of the wet. Their shoes squeaked across the floors until they reached the classroom, where Spock already sat in front of the class. Instead of his usual black uniform, he wore a snugly fitting blue science Starfleet shirt. Nyota happened to be more preoccupied by the way it fit him than the fact that he was wearing it…

When he dismissed them at the end of class, Sarah nodded toward Spock. "We're discussing costumes after your…meeting," she insisted. "I got some ideas during that ridiculously long lecture."

"Alright," Nyota laughed. "I'll see you after lunch?"

Sarah nodded and left with Jon and Ling, leaving Nyota behind. She walked down the steps of the room, pulling her coat over her shoulders.

"_I will not be able to work for our usual period of time_," Spock said as she neared him. She pulled her eyes away from the stretch of his shirt across his shoulders.

"_Oh? How come_?"

"_I must attend a meeting with Starfleet officers and active personnel. They will be discussing the impending launch of the ships currently docked for repairs, and corresponding assignments."_

"_The Enterprise, too, right?"_

Spock nodded. "_Captain Pike asked me to be present as he wishes to assign me a post on the NCC-1701."_

"_He does?"_ she asked excitedly as she pulled up her hood to walk into the light drizzle. "_So that's why you're wearing your science blues," _she smiled. He nodded. "Hey," she frowned suddenly, her hand reaching out instinctively, "you're a lieutenant commander."

Her fingers ghosted over her discovery: his wrists were encircled by double bands of silver, the top slightly thinner than the second. The brush of her touch against the fabric caused him to incline his head sharply, but she didn't notice; she just looked up at him with wide, curious eyes.

"Yes," he said simply when she seemed to require an answer.

"_Then why do I know you as Lieutenant?" _she asked, her brow creasing.

She got a strange impression that he would have shrugged, had he been expressive enough to do so. "_The moniker became habitual to Captain Pike; when he promoted me to lieutenant commander, he never changed his form of address. I have no explanation for his actions to provide."_

"It just stuck?" Nyota smirked.

"_Yes, I suppose that idiom would be appropriate," _he allowed.

"_Why didn't you correct people here?"_

"_I did not feel the effort necessary would be proportional to the benefits of having everyone address me by the proper rank. Additionally, I did not expect to spend so long teaching."_

Shaking the water from her coat, Nyota stepped inside the Biology building. She found it strange that he didn't seem concerned about people knowing his true rank; despite his history-making presence at Starfleet, he didn't seem particularly disposed to seeking attention. "_How long were you active?" _she asked idly as they climbed the stairs.

"_Two years, four months, and seventeen days. When the Farragut came back to Terra for repairs, Captain Pike suggested I spend the interim teaching."_

Nyota leaned against the wall as she watched Spock type in his office passkey. "Do you like teaching?"

Spock paused and looked down at her, his dark eyes lingering long enough for her to notice, again, the appealing curve of his brow bone and depth of his almost black irises…

"_I have found it has been an…intriguing…occupation of my time,"_ he said before pulling his eyes away and walking through his door, tucking his hands behind his back.

Nyota hesitated; what did that mean? Had his pause been a beat too long, or was she reading into things too much again? She followed him in, biting her lip.

"_Now I don't know what to call you," _she said, pulling his eyes back up to hers with a raised eyebrow this time. "_Lieutenant, lieutenant commander, commander…"_

Spock saw a flash of emotion in her expression, but could not place it before she finished, "_Can I just call you Spock instead?"_

Mischief, he decided; the expression had almost definitely been mischief. He filed it away for future reference and studied her expectant gaze. He tilted his head to the side. "_While we are working together, it would not be remiss."_

She smiled widely and sat down as she asked, "_Then will you call me Nyota? A lot of my other professors do…"_

This expression he could not categorize. An eyebrow slightly raised, her head turned minutely right, and an intriguing quirk to her lips. He had insufficient information to name it.

Their gaze held a second too long again, she noticed. His eye contact always lasted longer than a human's would, but she found she didn't mind. And she realized she could feel him again, that fuzzy emotion that wasn't hers. Curiosity and maybe tentativeness reached her mind, but then he answered, "_If you wish."_ She smiled and turned away to pull her PADD out of her bag.

"_Have you heard from Oteru University since you sent your request?"_

"_No,"_ Nyota answered, "_but I only sent it yesterday."_

"_Then we will continue with our exercises with the alphabet. You will work on a translation by yourself, as I will not be able to translate the entirety of Ha-kiv t'Verat with you."_

"_Right," _Nyota nodded, watching Spock connect their PADDs with a short cord. He said it was approximately ten seconds faster than messaging the documents to her. He handed it back and opened his laptop, turning away from her. She curled her legs up into her chair and, balancing the PADD on her knee, pulled her hair back into a ponytail as she began reading.

They sat quietly, working independently. Nyota had picked up the alphabet quickly, as it was fairly similar to the media script she was used to, but she couldn't keep her eyes focused on the characters. Her gaze wandered to the shelf next to her again, which she had never found an opportunity to actually study. Her eyes ran over the bottom shelf, which held a quaint collection of paper books of various colors and sizes; they were about half and half Federation Standard and Vulcan, but most appeared to be science related.

"_Are you going to work in the sciences on the Enterprise?" _she asked, her gaze still on the shelf of books.

Spock looked up blandly at her question, surprised by the interruption. Generally she was a diligent worker and rarely became distracted, but she was looking at his shelf of books curiously.

She felt his surprise, but he did not seem to mind her rather personal query. He responded quietly, his voice almost part of the warm air enveloping her. "_Yes, I expect to be a science officer. I may also be selected as first officer."_

"_And you specialize in biology,"_ she said, more a statement than question. He simply nodded. "_Do you like physics?"_

He tilted his head. "_I neither like nor dislike physics. Teaching it is an acceptable use of my time as I understand it quite easily."_

"_You explain it well, too," _she smiled, twisting her hair around her finger.

"_Thank you," _he replied to the unexpected praise. He could express the illogic of complimenting him on something that came naturally, but he had found simply saying thank you was much more expedient, and was what a human wished to hear. Nyota leaned her head back, exposing the smooth, dark expanse of her neck, collarbone, and the soft curve visible above the neckline of her uniform. Spock blinked at her.

"_It's so comfortable in here…Usually the temperature doesn't distract me, but I'm so tired from staying up last night…"_

Spock could not respond to this. One, the personal nature of her comment left him unsure of how to proceed with the conversation; two, any further polite question about w_hat had kept her up the night before_ would surely sound inappropriate no matter his phrasing; and three, he was distracted by the continued opportunity to study her torso without her eyes on him. Therefore he said nothing.

Rolling her neck as though in pain, she looked again at the shelf of books. "_Do you mind if I look at these?" _she asked, extending her hand to skim along the spines.

"_I do not," _he said, abandoning his work to watch her peruse his books. She selected a Vulcan text on education that his mother had sent just before he started teaching. Nyota opened the cover and immediately found the inscription his mother had written. Sarek and Spock had both told Amanda that their Vulcan memories made it entirely unnecessary for her to write in the occasions for which books were given, but she insisted on doing so anyways.

Nyota found neat, flowing writing on the inside cover that read, in Standard, "Spock—I'm actually sending this as a warning for what _not _to do with human students. I'm sure you'll soon realize how different human learning is from Vulcan! You may think me silly for sending this book, but I assure you there were no texts on human learning here (I could have ordered you one, but I had to add an inscription). Good luck! Love, your illogical mother."

Trying not to grin, Nyota didn't look up. Spock said quietly, without prompting, "_She insists on wishing me good luck despite my numerous attempts to explain the impossibility of luck's existence."_

Nyota smiled up at him. "_I suppose she couldn't ever lose some of her illogical human traits."_

"_Indeed, she has retained most of them," _he said. Despite his polite tone, Nyota could sense the fondness beneath his words. He paused again, the way she had come to recognize as the hesitation before he said something revealing. "_I would not wish for her to lose them, as they are an important part of her being."_

Nyota literally bit her tongue to stop herself from answering. Spock seemed lost in thought and she was pretty sure her commenting would just kill it. However, this plan only lasted a matter of seconds.

"_Did you grow up with Earth traditions?" _she asked, wondering, again, what his home life was like.

"_Some, yes,"_ he replied. He registered that he had entered a personal conversation with his student; however, when Nyota pulled him into these sorts of conversations (as he was quite aware that she eagerly prompted him to discuss his life), she did not feel like his student. He also realized that the nebulous description of _not feeling like his student_ should not have any relevance to how he acted around her. Despite this, he continued; sharing aspects of his cultural upbringing were not detrimental to their professional relationship and would benefit her as a language student. "_My mother often listened to Earth music and celebrated some Terran holidays."_

"_What about _Halloween_?" _Nyota asked, scooting forward in her chair as she was wont to do when excited.

"_She deemed it impractical as, she said, 'The fun comes from dressing up all together. It won't be worth it if I'm the only one.'"_

Nyota could tell he was quoting directly. She was quite sure those were the exact words his mother had used when explaining it to little Spock. "So you aren't going to participate this weekend at the campus Halloween party?"

She so had not been planning on asking him this. But it had come up in conversation, hadn't it? Her mind pushed away her thoughts about what she was doing and just waited for his response.

Was it significant that she had switched to Standard to ask her question? She switched back and forth fairly regularly, but Spock had yet to determine a pattern in why she did so. Watching her closely, he responded, "I did not plan on attending, no." Her shoulders dropped approximately five millimeters. "I have not been asked to chaperone," he clarified; her shoulders regained their height. Fascinating.

"Oh," she said in an undecipherable tone. She seemed to be thinking, her eyes roaming the room again. Spock checked his internal clock.

"_I am sorry, Nyota, but I must leave for my meeting,_" he said, rising. For a moment Nyota just looked up at him, thrown temporarily by his saying her first name. And with Vulcan inflection, too, how strange…At first she couldn't decide what it felt like, but then she decided…it was pleasant.

She smiled. "_That's alright. I can go,"_ she said, standing as well, and collecting her bag and PADD. Spock nodded at her and they walked to his door together. She had lost the train of their conversation and so they walked quietly downstairs. Once they left the building, they parted ways.

As Nyota meandered towards the dining hall, she realized she hadn't gotten much done, but also didn't really mind.

**A/N **Happy chapter =] Hope you enjoyed—please review and let me know!


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer **I don't own Star Trek or its characters.

**Chapter Fourteen**

"Yeah, that's right," Gaila nodded, handing Nyota's PADD back to her across the expanse between their beds.

"Awesome," Nyota said. She'd shown her roommate part of her Sub Physics work, knowing the Orion would check her math more accurately than she could. "Finally done," she said, swinging her long legs over the side of the bed. "You coming on the trip to the thrift store?" she asked. She and Sarah had decided at lunch that they would go to the second hand store to search for costumes.

Gaila shook her head. "Already have my costume," she said. Before Nyota could ask, she said cheekily, "It's a surprise. You'll see."

"Now I'm scared," Nyota smirked. "Where's my comm, I didn't tell Sarah where to meet me…" She dug through her bag and checked her pockets, but couldn't find the communicator. "Damn. Have you seen it, Gai?"

"No," the Orion answered. "Maybe you left it somewhere," she said distractedly, her focus back on her work.

"Hmm," Nyota frowned, looking around. She felt disconnected without it…Turning her PADD back on, she messaged Sarah and hoped she'd get it. Tapping her fingers impatiently on the PADD as she waited for a reply, she muttered, "What could I have done with it?"

**

Spock sat in his meeting with a feeling closely resembling impatience. The discussions taking place had little to do with him; he kept part of his mind on the conversation and part on the request Lee had made of him that afternoon. Prof Cory had unexpectedly requested leave for the following semester, which meant several language classes would have to be covered by other professors. Lee had asked Spock to pick up the Advanced Phonology course; he would be perfectly capable of teaching it, but as he mentally reviewed his probable schedule, he found he was unlikely to have any time for meditation during week days. While he only used this time approximately 2.8 times a week, he did appreciate the opportunity. It would also increase his grading and preparatory time from what he needed this semester. He had ample free time because of his shorter sleep requirements, but he did not eagerly anticipate spending more time in his office than he currently did. Spock was displeased.

Commander Lee was also sitting in on the meeting regarding Starfleet assignments, but Spock would not say anything to him. He had no legitimate complaints about the added workload, so he would not comment. He had already signed the documents and handed them to the Commander.

Pike, who was sitting next to Spock, leaned over, coming uncomfortably close to the Vulcan. Though they had worked together for over two years, Spock had not yet been able to effectively convey his dislike of people entering his personal space.

"You're still lined up for first officer, Spock, just like I told you," he nodded, his voice low. Illogically, the board was not discussing upper level appointments because so much of the faculty had been asked to the meeting. Spock merely nodded once to his commanding officer.

They were released soon after, and Spock stood calmly, ready to leave before everyone else could gather their notes. Spock did not take notes. This had caused several confrontations in his lower level Academy classes, but thankfully by now his coworkers had learned to believe him when he said he didn't need notes.

He got to the Biology building quickly and climbed the stairs two at a time. Before he turned the corner to the corridor off of which his office sat, he paused; he had heard his name.

"Actually, he's a Lieutenant _Commander_," someone was saying. His ears immediately recognized Nyota's voice. "Isn't it weird that nobody calls him Commander?"

Spock could not conjure any reason for him _not _to turn the corner and greet the cadet, but his feet remained still. "So should we call him Commander now?" asked her companion. Spock recognized Sarah Morris' voice.

"I decided to avoid the issue and call him Spock," Nyota laughed pleasantly. Spock stepped around the corner to see the two cadets seated beside his office door; Nyota's legs were stretched out before her, crossed at the ankle, and she was playing with a lock of her hair, which was out of its ponytail. She grinned when she saw him. "Speak of the devil!" Before he could respond, she said, "Idiom, I know." She rose to her feet gracefully and offered a hand to Cadet Morris.

"Do you require assistance with something?" he asked, surprised to see her back.

"_I think I left my comm in your office,"_ Nyota answered. She'd promised Sarah she would try to get Spock to speak in Vulcan, as her friend had never conversed with a native speaker in real life either.

Spock glanced over at Cadet Morris, but responded in Vulcan as he moved to punch in the passkey to his office. "_You are welcome to check, though I did not see it before I left."_

Behind his back Nyota raised her eyebrows at Sarah, who smiled slightly at his speech. The two girls followed him in and Nyota searched in front of his desk eagerly. _"I feel so weird without it!" _she frowned.

Though tentative to speak Vulcan in front of Spock, Sarah said, "_We won't have time for the thrift store…"_

"_I know, and we need to go today because we won't have time tomorrow or Friday and the party's on Saturday," _Nyota said, now on her hands and knees to search the floor. Spock watched silently, amused, until she declared "Aha!" and came up with the comm in her hand. "_I must have dropped it when I was looking at your books."_

Suddenly feeling cheeky, Sarah looked over at the professor, who sat at his desk with his laptop open before him. "Are you going to the Halloween party, sir?"

Spock's eyes jumped from Nyota to Sarah. He tilted his head. "I have no plans to attend," he replied, wondering why Cadet Morris wanted to know.

"Sarah!" Nyota hissed, looking scandalized. Sarah just sniggered.

"Just wondering," she shrugged. "A lot of the professors are going," she said towards Spock. He looked at her blankly; Nyota wished she could read his emotions, but they apparently weren't strong enough to reach her at the moment. She grasped her friend by the upper arm.

"You good, Mory?" she asked. Spock was watching her, she could feel. He was studying her cheeks, which seemed to have picked up an intriguing pink undertone. Was she blushing?

As Nyota dragged her out of Spock's office, Sarah added over her shoulder, "Ny'll be there, professor…and Ferrous and Prof Cormier of course…"

The door slid shut in front of her nose and Nyota shoved her, almost good naturedly but maybe not quite, down the hallway. "Mory, why would you ask him that?" she demanded.

"I was curious," her friend answered, a smirk still on her face. "I just wanted him to have all the facts before he made his decision, you know."

Nyota groaned. "I already asked him, and it wasn't weird because it came up in conversation. But for you to ask him, and then say I was going…You realize you have to face him on Friday?"

Skipping down the stairs, Sarah said, "Yeah but he never talks to me specifically in class, and he's obviously not going to affect my grade because of it. No lose situation."

"Except for the part where I have to speak to him after this," Nyota whined as she stepped outside.

"I don't know why you're so embarrassed, Ny," Sarah said, leading the way off campus towards the bus stop. "You told me there was no interest between the two of you, so why should it matter if he's at the Halloween party…?"

"Exactly, why should it matter?" Nyota countered, unsure what she was arguing anymore. Sarah rolled her eyes, and Nyota had no reply.

"Can we just go get costumes?" Sarah suggested.

"Yes, please!" Nyota agreed, breaking into a jog.

**

Spock heard their conversation until they descended the stairs, but it afforded him no insight into why Cadet Morris had asked whether he would be attending the campus Halloween party. He was still contemplating Nyota's blush and its possible implications when his door chimed. "Enter," he said.

Ferrous walked in, Prof Cormier close behind him. "We're not intruding, are we, Spock?" he asked.

"I have time to speak with you," Spock nodded. Prof Cormier seated herself in Nyota's chair and Ferrous took the one beside it.

"How has your teaching been, Spock?" Prof Cormier asked politely.

"Well, thank you," Spock responded. He did not enjoy social niceties, but he knew she meant the best. He had grown used to Prof Cormier's polite questions; there were some habits humans would never abandon.

"I wondered if you were planning on going to the Halloween party, Spock," Ferrous said as he crossed his legs. Spock blinked at him; why did all of his acquaintances wish to know whether he was attending an inconsequential, cultural, frivolous gathering? He had not gotten the impression the party had any large significance, had not attended since his first year as a cadet (which he had been tricked into in the first place), and saw no reason for his attendance.

"I have no plans to attend," he repeated.

Ferrous leaned forward. "They need one more chaperone, Spock. Alice and I are going, and I think you'd have fun."

Prof Cormier made a sound like a snort. "What he means, Spock, is that he'd like you to go," she said, and even Spock could detect the amusement in her voice. "George, don't go mentioning fun. His idea of fun is probably more along the lines of staying in to meditate and read."

Spock was not sure "fun" was the appropriate word for her surprisingly accurate description of his typical evening, but he did acknowledge that it sounded more pleasing than the Halloween party.

"All you have to do is stand around and look official for a while, and then you can spend the evening in conversation with us," Ferrous explained, holding out a hand to encompass Prof Cormier.

"You might be the last resort in the chaperone department," Prof Cormier added. "Believe me, they wouldn't have sent us to you otherwise."

Spock considered them. "Do I genuinely have a choice in this matter, or is it an instance when the socially acceptable way of informing me of my duty is to pose it as a question?" he asked. This was one of his least favorite human tendencies; if he was expected to do something, he preferred to be told directly. When something was introduced as a question, he assumed there was personal choice in the matter. For instance, he had learned, "Would you like to help me with this class/project/idea?" was not, in fact, an actual question, but instead an unwritten requirement of his contract. However, he still sometimes had trouble identifying such questions.

His two guests glanced at each other. "Well, it's not really a duty…" Prof Cormier said. "But the administration will like to see you helping out."

"It'll get you brownie points at the very least," Ferrous shrugged. Before Spock had the chance to ask him about this curious idiom, he continued, "Won't it benefit you as a cultural study?"

"I attended my first year as a cadet and found it to be a poorly defined element of United States culture," Spock said. Prof Cormier laughed.

"Now there's a way to explain Halloween. It is kind of wishy washy why we do it, isn't it?"

"Will you come, Spock?" Ferrous asked.

Spock had little incentive to accept; he did not anticipate attending a party and felt no duty to assist with chaperoning. However, he also had little reason to decline; he had no other plans that night, the administration needed an additional chaperone, and Ferrous had requested that he attend. He did not have enough reason to refuse, so he therefore had to accept the social request. His mother had informed him of the following soon after his arrival on Earth: "Not wanting to go isn't a good enough reason not to. It's unfortunate, but humans require reasons why you aren't going to do something. Unless you have a legitimate excuse, it's best to accept any kind of invitation."

He had stopped keeping track of how many times he bowed to human niceties; it simply took up too many neurons in his brain. "Very well," he conceded. "I will chaperone. But I will not dress in costume," he added before Ferrous could convince him otherwise.

***

**A/N **Thank you to everyone who has taken an interest and especially to those of my readers who review! I love to hear what you think of the story and it really does keep me writing.


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer **I don't own Starfleet, Uhura, Spock, Amanda, or Gaila.

**Chapter Fifteen**

"You're going to the Halloween party? Oh, I'm glad, Spock," Amanda smiled across the video link. Her son tipped his head slightly. "Do you need costume ideas?" she asked eagerly, her eyes sparkling.

"I do not plan on assuming a costume, Mother," he said quietly. Her shoulders drooped.

"Oh, come on, Spock, where's the fun in going to a Halloween party if you don't dress up?"

"I am not going in order to have fun, Mother; I am going to chaperone and because Dr. Ferrous requested that I do so."

Amanda smiled lopsidedly. She hadn't met this Ferrous man, but she liked him. He seemed to be getting Spock to _do _things. Maybe going to the party would loosen him up a bit; she almost snorted at herself. She could probably count on her fingers the times Spock had "loosened up." She surveyed her son curiously.

"You're not going…_with_ anyone, are you?" she asked lightly.

"No, I am not escorting anyone," he said emotionlessly. "I am arriving as a chaperone." Hmm, she might have annoyed with that question. He rarely repeated himself unnecessarily. Despite this, she went on.

"You're not meeting anyone there…"

"I do not think the campus Halloween party would be an appropriate location for a date, if that is what you are implying."

There was no inflection in his voice, no annoyance or sarcasm, but a woman could take a hint. She dropped the subject.

"Well I hope you enjoy yourself, sa-fu." After a beat, she amended, "Well, I hope you don't have any unpleasant duties and that you have an uneventful evening."

"Thank you, Mother," he acknowledged.

They continued to speak of his work, and his mother seemed unusually contented. He did not ask about the matter with his father, as it did not seem to be bothering her any longer.

After they exchanged goodbyes, Spock arranged his bedroom to meditate. He increased the heat by four degrees and sat comfortably on his mat with the lights dimmed.

He had ignored Cadet Morris' question's possible significance during the day, but he brought the moment back to contemplate once more. He reviewed the expression on her face as she asked; it was reminiscent of what he had identified as Nyota's mischievous look. What intrigued him most was the flush of color brought to Nyota's warm cheeks because of it. She had asked him the same question without feeling embarrassed. She was, then, embarrassed because her friend had asked him if he was attending the Halloween party.

He could, frustratingly, deduce little from this. She was embarrassed by a third party asking him the same question she had no shame in asking herself. Embarrassment was another emotion he was not sure he experienced the same way humans did.

Reaching no conclusion, Spock put the thoughts away and cleared his mind for sleep.

**

Nyota sat comfortably in Spock's office Friday afternoon, working on the alphabet exercises she had been going to do Wednesday. Spock was reading silently behind his desk. She sighed contentedly just before her comm buzzed.

"Sorry," she mumbled, clearly irritated. "Is it alright if I answer?" she asked, looking at the call signature.

"_I have no objection," _he replied, turning back to his article. Nyota stood and walked to the far corner of his office; he saw no reason for her to do so, as he could obviously still hear her conversation quite distinctly. He could, in fact, hear both sides of the conversation.

"Hey, Marcus," she said, annoyance lingering in her tone.

"Hey, Nyota," came the cheerful answer. "How are you?"

"Fine, thanks. What's up?" she asked, eager to get back to her translation; she'd been close to finishing.

"I just wanted to ask if you want me to come by your dorm or meet you at the party," he said.

Nyota glanced over at her professor and turned towards the wall. This was not the best conversation to hold in his office… "Umm…why don't we meet there," she suggested. Easiest.

"Alright."

Before he could continue, Nyota said, "I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Right," he said, slightly taken aback at her abruptness.

"Bye, Librarian," she said as cheerily as she could.

"See you tomorrow."

Snapping shut the comm, Nyota returned to her seat without looking at Spock, whose eyes were still on his computer screen anyways.

She returned to her translation, quickly forgetting the Halloween situation. As she tapped out the last few words, she sighed. "There," she said, setting down the PADD on Spock's desk and stretching as she watched him pick it up. His eyes scanned through it quickly, skipping from one document to the other; he read faster than anyone else she knew.

"_Your translation of mashulayek could be more precise," _he said simply, handing back the PADD. She searched through the text eagerly.

"Did I put 'rain'? It should be 'shower,' shouldn't it?" she said, changing the word and handing it back. She took his silence as assent. Reading through the rest of it, he nodded and passed it back once more. As she saved the documents, he stood.

"_I feel good about the original characters," _Nyota noted as she, too, rose, and put her PADD in her bag.

"_You have become satisfactorily proficient," _Spock agreed.

Beaming, Nyota replied, "Thank you."

She turned to pick up her bag and leave, but was surprised when Spock asked her a question. "You will be attending the Halloween party?"

She looked up sharply. Didn't he already know she was going to the party? Wait, take that back; he cared that she was going to the Halloween party?

"Yeah," she answered, holding his eyes to try to glean meaning from them. "Yes, I am."

He nodded once. "Then I will see you tomorrow. I will be acting as a chaperone," he said expressionlessly. But even as he waited for her to leave, as he usually did, with a steady gaze, she could feel his satisfaction. She dismissed the fact that it could have been simply augmenting her own in her surprise.

"Oh! Alright," she said; his plans had changed since Wednesday? Slinging her bag over her shoulder and smiling, she said, "So I'll see you tomorrow." He simply nodded, but the satisfied feeling remained strong as she turned to leave. It didn't dissipate until she was hopping down the last steps of the staircase.

**

The next morning saw very little homework done. The dorm next to Gaila and Nyota's was decorating for a party, and various friends stopped in to beg items of clothing for last minute costumes. Gaila insisted on starting Nyota's makeup about two hours before they had to leave for the campus party. Sarah came by to help, too.

"Gaila, hurry up!" Nyota fidgeted after an hour of prodding by her roommate.

"Stay still," Gaila said, applying Ny's eyeliner.

"This would be so much easier to do myself," her victim mumbled.

"But it wouldn't be as good," Gaila chirped.

"Don't complain," agreed Sarah, who was sitting on the opposite bed. "She'll get it perfect."

Nyota just moaned, her eyes still closed. Gaila finished and next attacked her hair while Nyota looked longingly at Sarah's costume.

"Mory, yours is so uncomplicated," she said, surveying her friend's ripped jeans, plaid button-up, and pigtails under a cowboy hat. Sarah shrugged with a smirk.

"I'm honoring my heritage, remember?" she laughed. Gaila rolled her eyes.

"Hey you," Nyota said, waving her hand at the Orion, "when are you getting yourself ready?"

"I'm almost done with you and my costume's not that complicated. Plus, I don't have a hot date with a V—cute Librarian," she said.

Nyota couldn't see Gaila's face, but she did catch Sarah's sharp glare in the middle of the sentence. "What did you just say?" she demanded, twisting under Gaila's hands. As the Orion complained, she continued, "Have you two been talking about me?"

"You and Marcus, yeah," Sarah said innocently. Nyota could see the challenge hidden in her friend's eyes and narrowed her own in response.

"There," Gaila said loudly, clearly happy to avoid the subject. She patted Nyota's head once more and bounced off the bed to reach for her own skimpy costume.

"Gaila, why did you pick the devil?" Sarah asked as Gaila stripped to her panties and bra shamelessly. "Have we not told you you don't look good in red?"

"Too Christmasy, I know. But it's so retro on Orion," Gaila explained. "Anyway, how could I pass this up?" she demanded, holding up a tiny red dress and gesturing towards her red knee high boots, horns, and trident. Sarah and Nyota rolled their eyes simultaneously.

**

"You know I'm only coming for the food, right?" Gaila asked as they walked across campus to the Williams rec center. The food was the main draw to the official Starfleet Halloween party; the faculty was aware they wouldn't get many students there without it.

"Yes, we know," Nyota replied. "How long you think you'll be there, half an hour?"

"Dunno. I just want to find a guy who'll take me to a promising dorm party," the Orion grinned.

Ling, who had joined them in traditional ancient Chinese clothing, piped up, "So about five minutes then?"

Sarah started laughing maniacally. "I don't know, I might say two," she said, eyeing Gaila's short hem and low neckline.

"Oh, hush," Gaila said, clearly proud of their comments. "I might stick around to see how Nyota's night goes…" she said suggestively.

"I don't know what you all expect to happen tonight," Nyota said as she pushed open the door of the rec center.

***

**A/N** I know, no party yet, I'm evil! Sorry to leave you just before it starts…And short, too. Sorry! Hopefully next chapter will make up for it though, hehe!


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer** I believe Paramount owns all…

**Chapter Sixteen**

Spock stood by the long, strained food table, which was crowded with plates of Halloween food, traditional Terran autumn food, and several international dishes. Some students had staked out positions by their favorite items while others grabbed snacks on the go; Spock quickly decided it was too busy a station for him once the party became crowded.

He was, therefore, moving between a shamefully scantily clad cat and an inaccurately constructed Andorian toward the front corner of the room when the door to the rec center opened. He hadn't noted many entrances since the room had filled, but this group caught his eye.

Nyota walked in still speaking over her shoulder to her friends; Spock quickly noted that she was accompanied by Sarah Morris, Ling Song, and an Orion he had never met before. However, he didn't dwell on this long.

Nyota was dressed in what he could only describe as half a shirt and a flowing skirt. Her top had a high neck but only covered half of her midriff. Both it and the low riding skirt were soft white, which created a surprisingly aesthetically pleasing contrast with Nyota's dark skin. She wore gold bands around her upper arms and about her head; the outfit's gold and blue detailing and her heavy makeup suggested she was imitating Cleopatra, of Ancient Egypt. He deduced the costume had been inspired by her contact with Oteru University.

His eyes lingered on her bare shoulders and waist. Suddenly her eyes flittered up to his just as he looked up to her face. As their eyes caught, an image flashed across his mind: He was looking down at her, his hands on the soft curve of her bare hips, and he could feel her mind's presence close by. When he dipped his head down to bump her forehead, her eyes fluttered closed and his fingers smoothed across her warm skin…

He blinked, clearing his mind angrily. She was walking towards him, and he struggled to contain his thoughts, concentrate on her eyes, keep his expression blank, push away all imagined visions.

Nyota saw Spock almost as soon as she entered the room, not that she was looking for him; she'd been looking for Marcus. He was standing by himself in his black instructor's uniform, surveying the party blandly. But their eyes had caught, so she smiled and wove her way through the crowd to greet him.

"Hi, Spock," she said, raising her voice above the music. He simply nodded, his expression unchanging. She didn't feel anything from him; where was his echoing pleasure at seeing her? She shifted on her feet, suddenly made uncomfortable by his intense gaze and her uncovered stomach. "Are—are you okay?" she asked, reaching out a hand unthinkingly to touch his forearm.

He twitched away from her and spoke so quietly she only understood him by reading his lips. "Of course," he said.

Nyota licked her lips, making Spock's jaw clench. He knew she was uncomfortable, but he only wished for her to leave; he needed to regain control of his thoughts.

"Uhura!" someone called from across the room. The cadet glanced over, then back at him.

"I'll see you later, then, Commander," she said, feeling awkward. Gratefully, she darted off towards whoever had called her name.

Spock watched her go with relief and relaxed his muscles carefully. He could not allow such inappropriate images to reach the front of his mind.

Nyota navigated easily through the crowd towards the source of the call. Too late, she spotted Kirk smirking at her between people's heads. She groaned and turned, but he slid between everyone and took her arm gently.

"Kirk," she nodded, studying his costume. He wore a yellow Starfleet uniform with triple silver bands around the wrists; a captain's uniform. She rolled her eyes. "You steal that uniform, Kirk?" she asked.

"What's more important," he replied, running his eyes down her body, "is how you just stole my heart."

Nyota laughed and brushed past him. "Have a nice Halloween, Kirk. Maybe you'll find a freshman who believes the uniform."

"Hmm, good idea," he said, peering around the room.

Nyota slid back through the crowd toward Ling and Sarah; Gaila was already dancing. Sarah offered her a glass of punch. "Cute Librarian show up yet?" she asked.

Before Nyota could reply, he answered from behind them, "Here I am." He grinned as Nyota turned to greet him.

"Hey, how are you!" she smiled, and laughed at his outfit; he wore loose pants and an open shirt with a purple hat and a mess of chain necklaces. "A kickback? From the 20s?"

"Yeah," he shrugged. "The literary connection, you know." He appraised her costume with a lingering look. "You look really good," he said.

"Thanks. I wanna dance. You coming?" she asked, peering over at the crowded dance area.

"Sure," he said, taking her hand to pull her into the mass of people.

Nyota moved to the music happily, enjoying the swirling of her skirt and the movement of bodies around her. Marcus danced confidently enough to make up for lack of grace, and they both lost count of the songs they danced to…

**

"Enjoying yourself, Ny?" Gaila asked as they danced past each other.

Nyota pulled her off the dance floor to rest. "Yes," she said, "he's a good dancer." Her eyes slid over unconsciously to check if Spock was still in the same place.

"He's been watching you," Gaila whispered, waggling her eyebrows.

"Who?" Nyota demanded. Gaila rolled her eyes; she'd been around Nyota so long she'd picked up the habit.

"If you won't admit it, I won't say anything…" she shrugged, sweeping her eyes around the room.

Marcus came over to join them, handing a cup of punch to Nyota. She was distracted by a sudden pull towards the Orion; her dress really was sexy, and didn't her hair look so soft and touchable…?

"Gai! Pheromones! Right here!" Nyota accused, giving her roommate a shove.

"Sorry!" Gaila sang, starting across the room with purpose. "Wasn't for you!"

"Not gonna see her again tonight," Ny commented.

"Not alone, anyway," Marcus agreed with a grin, pulling her back to the dancing as a new song started.

**

"Enjoying yourself, Spock?"

The Commander turned to see Ferrous sidling up beside him holding a plate of cookies. He declined the offer to share and replied, "I would not describe the experience as 'enjoyment,' but I have been satisfactorily occupied."

Ferrous chuckled. "Thanks for filling in. I wanted to talk about your Advanced Phonology class actually. You accepted, right?"

"I believe it was an instance of a duty disguised as a question."

"True enough," Ferrous allowed. "Do you want a TA?"

Spock considered the advantages and disadvantages of having a Teacher's Assistant quickly: less time commitment and less grading, balanced against having to tell the TA how to do everything correctly and not being in complete control of the class… "I would consider applicants," he said with a tilt of his head.

Ferrous looked over toward the thinning dance floor. Spock's eyes followed to where they had already often been that night. "I have an idea…I'll get back to you on it," Ferrous nodded to himself.

Prof Cormier came over to join them in a Spacegirl outfit. "Lieutenant," she smiled at Spock.

Holding out the plate of cookies to her, Ferrous said off-handedly, "Haven't you heard the news? He's a Lieutenant Commander, has been since he started teaching."

"Oh!" Prof Cormier said. "Well, then, Commander," she amended, "I beg your pardon."

"There is no need to do so," Spock nodded. As his companions continued talking, he reviewed his recent conversations; he had only spoken to Nyota, Pike, and his mother about his rank within the past month. Interesting. His eyes slid back to the dance floor again.

**

Nyota twirled over toward the food table, parched. The food had been combed over, all the dishes half emptied, and she realized the crowd had thinned, too, while she and the librarian danced. Downing a cup of punch, she looked around; Spock was conversing with Ferrous and Prof Cormier, Sarah was ensconced in a corner talking to some junior, Gaila was nowhere to be seen, and Marcus was walking towards her.

"You done?" Marcus asked, reaching around Nyota to snag the Vulcan equivalent of corn chips.

"I'm hot," Nyota nodded, fanning herself. She didn't see Marcus smirk in agreement as his eyes lingered on her bare stomach.

"Wanna go outside?" he suggested.

"Yeah, sure," she agreed.

**

"We should watch the door," Prof Cormier advised, watching two girls leave the rec center. "Make sure people are safe."

Ferrous agreed amiably. "We don't all three have to. Spock, would you mind…?"

"Not at all," Spock nodded, already moving toward the door. He heard Prof Cormier hiss, "Why'd you make him do it himself?" but continued to the door; he opened it just as Nyota and her date reached it.

"Okay, fine, we can go to Nandi's party," Nyota was saying. "Thanks, Commander," she said as she took the door from him, her eyes lingering. He stepped out into the cool air to hear her continue. "I've heard he's a total drunk, though."

"It'll be fine, Ny," the librarian assured her, taking her by the arm.

Spock watched them walk across the grass, staring at where his hand touched her bare skin.

**

Most of the room had already been drunk by the time Nyota and Marcus reached Nandi's party. Marcus spotted some students his age and led Nyota over to them; she wouldn't have ever thought he'd be friends with people who drank so much. One of them whistled at her when they came over. Marcus whacked him, but proceeded to join them with a beer in hand. She was currently giving them the benefit of the doubt, since they were at a party. This didn't help the fact that she was sitting on the floor of a dorm room with no one talking to her. She found herself drinking a nameless beer slowly, trying to identify the feeling she'd felt from Spock as she left the rec center.

Her memory of it was already fading, and she hadn't examined it right away because she was having a conversation. But she tried to recall it; it wasn't really displeasure, but she thought there might have been some wariness involved. She tilted her head idly…and concern maybe? She sighed; she couldn't remember it well enough.

Marcus and his friends burst out laughing. She stood up and walked over to him. "Hey," she said, leaning down, "I'm gonna go."

"Oh, don't," he frowned, already smelling like alcohol. Or maybe it was the room. "I'm sorry, you wanna go somewhere else?"

"Stay here, Librarian, it's fine. I'll talk to you later."

"You going to see that Vulcan you were eyeing all night?" he demanded, his pupils dilated.

"What? No, Marcus, what are you talking about?" she asked, standing up straight to turn away.

"Don't bail," he said, standing up and taking her arm.

"Let go," she said quietly. When he didn't, she whacked his hand away. "You're already drunk, aren't you?"

"I'm not drunk," he protested. Nyota just rolled her eyes and stepped away. "Don't leave!" he growled, grabbing her waist this time.

She spun around; dammit, she would find a guy who got angry drunk on two beers. "You know I've had combat training, right?" she asked menacingly. He scoffed at her and held her tighter; she kneed him in the groin, hard.

Marcus groaned and let go of her; there was a rush of noise around her, but she slipped out of the room and hurried down the stairs. As she reached the bottom, she heard several men stumble out of the dorm to follow her.

"Leave her!" she heard Marcus yell, but at least two of them were behind her as she hopped outside into the cool, damp air and started running across campus. She didn't turn to look, but she could hear heavy, uncoordinated footsteps and shouts following her as she crossed the wet grass; she was glad she'd chosen flats.

It sounded like only two people on her tail. Incredibly, some back corner of her brain recognized the idiom that ghosted through her mind. She could probably take them; then again, if she did, she'd probably be reprimanded by the Academy. It wasn't worth it if she could just get some back up to scare them off.

"Stop!" she heard suddenly, spotting a figure approaching from her right. Perfect. She veered toward it and heard her pursuers' footsteps falter. "You will desist."

Oh, that had to be Spock, she realized, her stomach twisting as she peered through the dark. The pathway lights weren't bright enough to illuminate the man's face, but she could see his perfect posture and calmness as she neared him. And she could feel him. Something strong and angry and…protective…hit her. She'd never been so happy to see a Vulcan.

***

**A/N **Cliffie, sorry! I have a bunch more to go, and I had to cut it somewhere… Now you guys get to learn how much I can drag stuff out; one more chapter, I think, of the night. Maybe two, haha.

And I liked Marcus…ah, well. I know some readers wanted to see dear Spock in a ridiculous costume…for all of you, I am sorry…but not sorry enough to change it =D I got him to the party. This is still pre-relationship Spock, please keep in mind, and I really don't think he could have been persuaded. It's part of his charm.

Reviews make my day!


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer** I don't own Nyota, Spock, or Gaila

**Chapter Seventeen**

Nyota slowed down as she neared Spock and turned to face the two men following her. Oh, she totally could have taken them; they were falling over themselves. "Go home! I barely even hurt him!"

Spock glanced over at her reprovingly. His adrenaline had surged when he recognized her as she ran toward him. She stepped toward the two obviously intoxicated men and they stepped back.

"She kneed him in the nuts, man," one of them complained, looking almost sheepish.

"Yeah, because he wasn't holding me when I told him not to!" she said sarcastically.

"Does the Academy need to be brought into this matter?" Spock asked quietly. Nyota was surprised she felt the simultaneous menacing and concerned feelings attached to his sentence despite his lack of intonation, along with a surge of the strong emotion she couldn't identify, which made her shiver. She tried to shake it off; his reactions were distracting her.

"If they just leave, I'll be good," Nyota shrugged. Spock turned to them with an inexpressive stare. Nyota only heard them mutter unintelligibly and they turned back to skulk towards the dorm.

"What did they do?" Spock asked, turning his unblinking eyes to her. His words were inexpressive, but the protectiveness was overwhelming her.

"I'm fine," she stressed, putting out one hand to touch his elbow as the other rubbed across her eyes. She remembered his earlier move away from her hand and felt guilty for imposing, but he didn't react to her touch. For the first time she thought maybe she should tell him about being able to feel his emotions; it felt too personal all of a sudden.

"Did the librarian hurt you?" he asked.

"No, it's fine. Wait, how do you know Marcus is the librarian?"

"Are you certain you do not wish to seek a reprimand?"

"I did knee him," Nyota shrugged, still wondering about the answer to her question. "We're probably about even, so it's not worth it. The only reason I didn't fight those two was because _I _didn't want a reprimand."

"I see; I was uncertain why you decided not to confront them."

Nyota took it as a compliment and smiled. "I figured finding back up would just be easier. So thanks for showing up."

Spock was just looking after the two men, the anger/strength/protectiveness only barely fading. Aware that she shouldn't, she squeezed his elbow where her hand still rested; his eyes came down to meet hers. "Thank you," she repeated.

He tilted his head. "That was my duty," he said simply. "Can I escort you somewhere, if your date is not performing the function?"

Nyota gave him a sideways smile and dropped her hand. "I should go back to the rec center to find Sarah…"

"She left nineteen minutes ago," Spock informed her.

"Oh. With that junior?"

He nodded once. "Cadet Westmore."

"Hmm. Then I guess I'll just go back to the dorm," Nyota shrugged. She began walking toward her building and Spock fell into step beside her. "It's a bit of a walk."

"You should not go alone," he said simply.

As they walked, Nyota began thinking out loud. "I'm surprised at him. He's so much better than those guys, I don't know why he would hang out with them."

"You appeared to be enjoying yourself while at the Williams Center," Spock commented. Nyota didn't even try to figure out the feeling that went with it.

"I was. But then he was totally different when we got to Nandi's. It was bizarre. I don't like it." Why was she telling this to Spock? "He had at least two beers in about forty five minutes."

"What did he do?" he asked quietly, walking closer to her than he normally did.

"I told him I was leaving and he got upset," Nyota sighed. "He just grabbed my arm, and didn't stop when I told him to… Maybe I overreacted."

She felt that feeling spike in him again. It felt more like eavesdropping then ever when he didn't even allude to it. He just said, "The necessity of violence is difficult to assess."

Glancing over at him sideways, she shrugged. "Anyway, I took off and those two followed. I figured I'd just go for back up to scare them off. I'm fine," she repeated.

Spock was trying to regulate his emotions; he acknowledged _anger_ and _protectiveness_: both legitimate responses if he could compose himself. Allowing the conversation to lapse, he carefully compartmentalized his reactions: those as an instructor, those as a Vulcan, those pertaining to his feeling of responsibility toward Nyota. He was aware of her proximity as they walked to her dorm in the cool night air.

"Shouldn't you be chaperoning the party?" Nyota asked quietly.

"My responsibility was to chaperone and protect students, so technically I am still performing my duty," he said. "Also, as most of the students have left the Williams Center, fewer chaperones are needed to maintain an effective ratio."

"Fair enough," Nyota nodded with a faint smile. The return of her mischievous look did not escape Spock's notice. "I was disappointed you weren't in costume," she said with a smirk.

"I saw no reason to 'dress up.'"

"I was trying to imagine it. Maybe a devil costume? Of course, then Gaila brought out hers and I was trying not to crack up." She felt his discomfort and tried not to giggle, as she knew it was mean. "Sorry, making you uncomfortable."

Spock checked himself; he had not consciously expressed his discomfort at the subject of his hypothetical costume. However, she moved on before he could comment.

"Do you like mine?" she asked, skipping ahead of him to send her skirt swirling.

Spock believed this was what one might call a "loaded question." He hesitated before responding. "I assume you wish to be recognized as Cleopatra of Ancient Egypt?" he asked finally.

"Of course!" Nyota said.

Moving to easier topics, Spock said, "You succeeded, then. Speaking of Egypt, have you heard from Oteru University?"

"Yes, thank you for asking," she responded, falling back into step beside him. So he hadn't actually replied about her costume, but she figured asking after her project made up for it. Librarian had never ended up asking about the request… "They contacted me Friday afternoon. A woman from their library said she'd like to help me, and that she can talk to the dean to make sure I can have access to their digital copy."

"I am surprised you did not contact me earlier to inform me."

Nyota shrugged but smiled inwardly. "I didn't have time. But now you know! Wouldn't you have just told me it wasn't in my hands so you didn't care anyway?" she teased.

"I am not opposed to hearing of your progress," he replied easily. She took it as proof that he did care about her project.

Unfortunately they were nearing her dorm quickly. She tried slowing her steps to see if he would unconsciously adjust his to match her, like most people did. Hah, he did! "Then I will keep you informed," she smiled.

Her steps were slowing as they neared her dorm; interesting. Was she merely slowing as most humans did naturally as they approached their destination, or was she prolonging the walk? Spock accompanied her to where the outdoor lights spilled across the sidewalk but stopped before he entered the yellowish, dim glow.

"_Thank you for walking me home," _she said sincerely, looking up at him from under her eyelashes.

"_You're welcome,"_ he responded in his native language. "_You are certain you were unharmed by the incident with the librarian?"_

"_Quite, thank you. Goodnight, Spock."_

He watched her push her ID card into the door pad. As the door clicked open, he said, "_Please inform me if you cannot enter your dorm room."_

Nyota nodded, surprised he would realize it was a possibility. As a matter of fact, she fully expected not to be entering her own room; Gaila had asked her earlier if she could maybe hog the room for the night because, you know, it had been a while, and could she maybe stay with Sarah for a night? She'd looked so innocent, and Nyota had to admit, Gaila had only kicked her out once so far since the beginning of term, which might have been a record. They'd developed a routine, she and Gaila and Sarah. She and Sarah thought of it as a time to bond a bit, and as their duty as friends of an Orion.

So Nyota walked down the still-noisy hall to pause before her door. Listening carefully, she heard a moan and immediately stepped back; good enough for her. So she walked down to Sarah's room. No light peeked from under the door, so she pressed her ear against it curiously. Nothing. She knocked; maybe Sarah had turned in early after all?

"Mory?" she hissed. Then more loudly, "Mory?" There was no answer.

"Hey, Sam?" Nyota asked, peeking her head into the open door next to Sarah's.

"Hey, Ny," smiled the shaggy haired boy sitting on the floor. He and the three other students with him were playing Gold Silver Bronze, a card game complex enough that he didn't actually look up at her when he responded. "What's up?"

"Did you hear Sarah come in?"

"No," he replied, slapping a card onto a pile before the girl next to him could. She groaned good-naturedly.

"She hasn't come back," the girl said, reaching across the whole group to throw down a card. "We've been here all night, I know I would have heard her."

"Alright, thanks," Nyota said, frowning.

"Wanna join us?" Sam asked as he slapped down his last card. "Gold!" he cried, grinning. Finally, he looked up at Nyota. "I just won, so you can join the next game."

"No thanks," she shook her head. "I'll see you guys later."

Nyota turned to walk back down the corridor. She didn't know if Spock would still be there, but he had told her to tell him…She'd just be doing what she said she would…

She pushed open the door hesitantly and peeked her head out. Spock stood with his back to her, his hands clasped behind him. He turned at the sound of the door.

"Gaila is…occupied," Nyota said, slightly embarrassed. Spock just nodded understandingly. She went on quickly. "And I was going to go to Sarah's room, but she's not back…"

"What are you going to do?" he asked. She marveled for a moment at how different the question sounded than if it had come from a human.

"Umm…I can't get into her room, so I guess I'll wait for her to come back. She probably will…" She stepped outside into the eerie light. As the door closed all the sounds from inside the dorm hall were cut off.

"_Would you like me to wait with you?"_ Spock asked, his dark eyes on hers.

She bit her lip. He had to be perfectly aware that there were other people she could wait around with inside…

"Sure," she nodded, walking over to the bench against the front of the building. She and Sarah had decided it was probably there for people who forgot their ID cards and had to sit around waiting for someone to open the door. Spock slowly moved to join her.

***

**A/N **I fully intended for something to happen in this chapter, I swear! I'll try to get the next one up soon.

A thoughtful review always makes my day! Thank you to all my readers who have commented already =]


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer **I don't profit from playing around in the Star Trek universe. It's someone else's masterpiece.

**Chapter Eighteen**

Spock sat on the cool bench outside Nyota's dorm. He hadn't been sure if she would agree to waiting with him, but he had thought he was obliged to offer in order to be polite. However, he was unsure of the protocol between professor and student; too many uncertain factors came into play. Humans did not have well-defined social protocols. They all overlapped without rules for precedence.

Nevertheless, he sat beside his student to await the arrival of her roommate. He eyed her bare stomach. "Are you cold?" he asked.

She looked up, surprised he's thought to ask. "A bit, but I'm alright, thanks."

"I apologize that I have no outer garment to offer you," he said neutrally, making her blush. Did he know the social connotations of that or not? She decided probably not.

"I'm alright," she repeated. "You're probably colder than I am, right?"

"Most likely not," he replied. She could feel his slight curiosity.

"Don't you prefer warmer temperatures?"

"While I prefer warmer environments, I have more control over my internal processes."

"Oh," she frowned, trying to think of what that would include. "Like what?"

"Metabolism, hormone levels, blood pressure…"

"And temperature?"

"Precisely," he nodded. He felt comfortable, speaking to Nyota like this. Sometimes when she spoke of non academic topics, it made him uncomfortable; this he could handle.

"What is it usually?"

"Approximately 32.78°C."* That was significantly cooler, Nyota thought. She wondered if she would be able to tell touching his skin; had it been cold when she brushed it that first day in his office? She couldn't remember, and she wished she could find out now.

"Alright then, you aren't cold…But sorry anyways, for you having to sit out here with me. I mean, you don't have to, so thank you…" She was rambling; she hated feeling incoherent around him.

"You are welcome," he acknowledged.

"How did you get roped into the responsibility anyway? Sorry, idiom!" she caught herself.

Raising an eyebrow, he explained, "By Dr. Ferrous and another idiom I do not fully understand. He promised I would receive 'brownie points.'" Nyota laughed.

"You're here just for brownie points?"

Finding no justification for lying, he responded, "That is not my only reason."

"What else, then?" she asked pleasantly.

"I would rather not discuss it," he said simply, meeting her eyes. He knew she was thrown off guard, but said, "The brownie points are the least comprehensible of my reasons, however."

"I hope you're not expecting anything tangible," she grinned. "It just means it will be appreciated as an extra step you took."

"Idiom," he commented; he liked that it extended her smile.

Shaking her head, she admitted, "I think I give up with the idiom challenge. I just can't do it."

"You are losing. I pointed out idioms you used fifty two times; I used twelve that you commented on. However, that does not include the forty four idioms you used without my comment." Though he wasn't entirely sure why, she laughed again, her eyes crinkling in amusement.

"Oh, I've been routed! How do you remember how many it's been?"

"Intrinsic ability augmented by training when young."

"Vulcans _learn_ how to do that?"

He nodded, intrigued that she was asking questions about Vulcans… "Our brains are well-suited for mathematical calculations, but some memory training is involved." He paused. "I find memory to be one of the most fascinating aspects of our differences."

"Why?" she asked, fidgeting in her seat as she often did when particularly interested in the topic at hand.

"Despite our profound similarities, our minds work quite differently." Nyota noted the curiosity and eagerness she could feel from him and resisted the urge to nod emphatically. "In memory, calculations, precision, use of language, emotion…"

"And your telepathy," Nyota added, looking at him from the side of her eyes.

"Touch telepathy," he corrected softly. He noted her glance at his fingers, which were intertwined on his lap, with curiosity.

The words jumped from her mouth before she could stop them. "It would be so interesting to feel what your mind is like…"

Spock inclined his head sharply. She did not know the social implications of her words; she could not know the social implications of her words. Had she not had Vulcan etiquette lessons? He denied the imagined feeling of her mind brushing against his.

She wanted to ask him if he'd felt a human mind before; she wanted to ask about why she could feel his emotions; she wanted to ask a million questions about his telepathy. But she kept her mouth shut firmly and looked down at the ground. She was fairly sure this was a personal topic to Vulcans. Perhaps it came too close to what they really thought and their emotions, which apparently existed, if she was currently feeling his murky, unidentifiable emotion and not some imagined sensation…She wanted to ask him about—wait, actually—

"Are you bonded?" Oh, damn. Had she really asked that aloud? She couldn't take her eyes off of him once they found their way there. He wasn't looking at her, and he'd tilted his head again, but not in amusement this time. She swallowed and opened her mouth to apologize, but before she could speak, he did.

"No," he answered, meeting her eyes steadily. "I am not."

Even as the words were half way out her mouth she was thinking, _Can't you ever shut up, Ny?_ "I thought all Vulcans were bonded at seven…"

Spock did not relish the direction the conversation had taken. Vulcan ritual had always been guarded from outsiders; however, the answer to her question was general knowledge among those who interacted with Vulcans. She had asked in innocence; he could not deny her knowledge. "Nearly all are, including myself. My bondmate and I separated before our…marriage ceremony took place," he explained neutrally.

She really shouldn't have asked, really. "I'm…sorry," she said.

"Explain," he said with a slight crease of his forehead.

"Umm, what?" Nyota asked, taken aback. Saying she was sorry was strange enough without having to explain herself.

"Are you expressing an apology for my situation? I do not always know in what context this is used," he said.

"Oh," Nyota said. "Well, yes. It's sort of silly in a way, I guess, because I have nothing to do with your situation…"

"I concur, as does my mother. She adopted the Vulcan phrase, which literally means 'that is regrettable.'"

"Well, then," Nyota, said, "that is regrettable. And I'm sorry for asking."

"Do not be sorry," he said. "You were curious, and we were speaking of Vulcans."

She wanted to keep asking questions and hear more about his bondmate and what happened and everything. But that would be going too far, so she sat back on the bench.

When Nyota didn't respond, Spock found himself searching for something else of which to speak with her. Generally if he had nothing on mind to say he kept silent; now, however, he felt like continuing the conversation. He would analyze why later in meditation; now he would just talk.

"Are you satisfied with your progress on _Ha-kiv t'Verat_?"

Nyota immediately perked up and turned in her seat to face him. One of her legs came up on the bench and rested approximately twelve centimeters from his thigh.

"Yes! I'll have to go through what I have so far again, once I have the original, but I think it'll take less time than the first time through. I just have to check it, not completely translate."

"How much have you completed with the transliterated copy?" he asked, keeping his eyes away from her midriff.

"Actually," she said, thinking, "a lot. Maybe almost half. I should have plenty of time to write my thesis, which is relieving." She turned in her seat again to look up at the stars, which were becoming visible as the sky cleared a bit. Thinking about her thesis got her thinking about her future, and her ambitious hopes to be out in space this time next year… "What's it like up there?" she asked, looking back at Spock.

"In space?" he qualified. When she nodded, he contemplated the question; he didn't know what she wanted to hear. "Specify."

She smiled softly and bit her lip. "I mean…does it feel different? Do you always think about how you're in space, far away from everything?"

"I did not. My duties were mostly time consuming, though during my free time I did occasionally remark on the fact that I was in space."

"But…can you feel the difference?"

"Not while performing my average duties, no."

It was a dissatisfying answer, but Nyota brushed it off because she figured that was just Spock's perception. He wouldn't notice the _feeling_ like she would, she was sure. "I used to stare up at the stars all the time when I was little. It's so cliché, but it's true," she told him, her eyes on the sky again.

"I did as well," he admitted, remembering T'Pring's disapproval of his fascination with the pinpricks of light. _They are only bodies created by nuclear fusion,_ she would say practically. Yet he had never been able to rid himself of the human, inexplicable, illogical fascination with the stars not as scientific subjects but as intriguing points of light in the distance…

"There's just something so…magical about them," Nyota smiled. When Spock didn't dispute the statement, she looked over at him with surprise; he was just gazing up at the sky too, even if his expression was neutral.

Now they lapsed into silence, and Spock felt comfortable. Nyota thought of other things to say, but didn't want to interrupt the sound of the slight breeze and the indistinct murmur of activities around campus. She found herself lulled by the quiet and the calm feeling coming from her professor and pulled her feet up onto the bench to protect her bare midsection from the air…

Spock saw Nyota's eyelids drooping in clear signs of tiredness. Most likely her fatigue was "catching up with her" after escaping from the two men. She curled herself onto the bench in what looked like an uncomfortable position; as she relaxed, she slid sideways until her head came to rest on his shoulder and her eyes were closed.

He blinked down at her. She was not touching any exposed skin, which meant their minds were thankfully not in contact; he closed his mind carefully anyway. He did not wish to disturb her, and though he was not entirely comfortable with her so close, he found that he did not mind as much as he might have expected. She didn't feel as intrusive as others who had gotten so close without invitation before. So he left her leaned against him and listened to the slowing of her breathing and felt the continued relaxing of her muscles, acknowledging the part of his brain that enjoyed having her warmth in such close propinquity.

Twenty one minutes and thirty two seconds later, after Spock had achieved a semi-meditative state, Nyota stirred against him. Moving to shift to a more comfortable position, she realized in her partly-sleeping consciousness that she was in a strange place and needed to wake up. When she shifted again and felt a body beside her, she remembered quite suddenly that she had been sitting next to Spock—Commander Spock—and snapped her eyes open as she sat up. Oh, how mortifying.

Spock took in her wide eyes with curiosity. Her expression conveyed…surprise, he decided, and embarrassment.

"I am so sorry," she gushed, blushing. "I didn't mean to, I can't believe—"

"It is not a problem," he assured her. She paused to gauge his feelings, to see if he was telling the truth or just being polite, but she couldn't feel anything from him. Hmm.

"You were tired; I was the most convenient pillow."

Was he teasing? She wasn't sure… She reached up to her hair to readjust the circlet, which was digging into the side of her head.

Her rumpled hair was surprisingly endearing, Spock thought before he could banish the idea. He checked his internal clock; they had been waiting for nearly an hour.

"What will you do if Cadet Morris does not return imminently?" he asked as Nyota rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"I don't know," she muttered, wrinkling her nose. She yawned and then pulled out her comm to check the time. "Ugh, I don't know," she repeated.

"Is there someone else you could room with tonight?" he asked, hoping one of her many friends would be a possibility.

"I'll try Ling," Nyota frowned down at the comm. "Hey, Ling?" she asked when the other girl picked up.

"Hi, Nyota. Did Sarah bail on you?"

Nyota smirked. "Yes. Is it possible—"

"Come on over," Ling said; Nyota could hear the smile in her voice. "You can sleep on our futon."

"Thank you Ling. I'll be there in a little while."

"No problem. See you."

Nyota snapped the comm closed and nodded to Spock. "All set. You didn't really have to sit here with me anyways," she shrugged.

"It was not a problem," he responded, his eyes gazing at her steadily. She never knew what that look meant. He stood. "Does Cadet Song live in a different dorm?" he asked.

Nyota nodded. "She's in Townsend." Before she could say anything else, Spock offered, "I will escort you there."

She smiled and stood, stretching, and they started across campus once more.

They walked in silence, but comfortably, and Spock stopped before entering the pool of light outside the dorm again. "You are certain you will have somewhere to sleep?" he confirmed.

"Yes," she nodded confidently. "Thank you for staying with me even though it was unnecessary."

Spock decided to try a new idiom. "My pleasure," he nodded and turned away to walk towards his apartment, leaving Nyota standing watching him.

***

**A/N ***32.78 Celsius is about 91°F; I found this as Vulcan body temperautre in a couple of places online.

Yay, happy chapter! Please leave me a review to tell me what you thought!


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer **Nyota, Spock, and Gaila are not mine. I make no profit here

**A/N **FYI, there's a bit of swearing in this chapter. Nothing crazy, but while we're on the topic, if anyone ever has a comment about my rating pleaseplease tell me, as I'm new to the rules…It may or may not become an issue later, nudge nudge wink wink.

**Chapter Nineteen**

Ling opened the door to her double in cotton pajamas covered in printed ice cream cones. "Hi, Nyota," she smiled.

"I didn't wake you up, did I?" Nyota asked, frowning.

"Nope," Ling shook her head as she stepped back to motion Nyota inside. "Shora and I were both still up."

Ling's roommate, a petite girl with long, straight, brown hair and delicate features, was lying in bed with her PADD on her knees. "Hi, Nyota," she said pleasantly before turning back to her work. Ling pointed towards the old futon in the corner, which had a pillow and blanket thrown onto it.

"I've heard it's pretty comfortable," she shrugged. "Do you need some pj's?"

Nyota wrinkled her nose. "Do you mind if I borrow some? I'm sorry to have to stay here with no warning…"

Ling pulled another pair of pajamas out of her bureau. "No problem. I thought you and Sarah usually had this settled?" she said as she handed the shorts and shirt to Nyota, who nodded.

"We usually do, but she apparently forgot I would need to sleep in her room tonight."

"Have you been with Marcus this whole time?" Ling asked offhandedly, climbing into her bed.

Nyota moved toward the bathroom, hesitating. "Mostly, yeah," she answered, unwilling to explain everything when the two girls clearly valued their quiet. Ling smiled in response and Nyota closed the door behind her.

She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and her hand came up to touch her hair, which had come out of Gaila's perfect up-do. She pulled the golden circlet off her head and slowly peeled off her costume. She shimmied out of her skirt and let it pool at her feet; as she pulled on the borrowed pajamas, she finally realized how cold she felt. Rubbing her arms briskly, she quickly scrubbed away her makeup and pulled her hair into a pony.

By the time she pushed open the bathroom door, Shora had put away her PADD and turned off her light; Ling sat with a paper book on her lap, but looked up when Nyota appeared. "Do you mind if we go to bed?" she asked quietly.

"Of course not," Nyota replied as she sat down on the sunken cushions of the small futon. She still felt wired, but she also felt like she was imposing. Ling waited until she'd settled in, then clicked off the light, leaving only the thin line of illumination from under the door for Nyota to look at.

She tried closing her eyes, but they refused to stay shut. Without her permission, her mind replayed the feeling of Spock's shoulder under her head. He'd felt cool and solid and she could still imagine the soothing effect of his mind being sort of next to hers. She couldn't really explain it, but if that was what Vulcan telepathy was like, she liked it.

But then she hadn't felt anything from him when she woke up. Had he been totally mortified? It was clear he had no trouble hiding what he actually thought. What about when she had told him about deciding not to fight the two guys? The protectiveness had been overwhelming—endearing, but overwhelming—but he hadn't said a word about it. Being able to sense his true feelings felt like eavesdropping. Frankly, of course, she usually didn't mind at all. Mostly she found it helpful.

Her thoughts shifted back to being chased by Marcus' friends. The bastards…She couldn't believe he'd been so different after two drinks. She so hadn't pegged him as the type. Part of her thought it was too bad…But most of her just exclaimed, Screw him! Good riddance!

She tossed over away from the light, forcing her mind back to the end of the night instead. Had he just felt obliged to offer to stay? She could have just hung out in the dorm, but he'd wanted to make sure she had somewhere to sleep. Fluctuating between thinking he was just doing his duty and thinking he was the sweetest guy she knew, Nyota drifted to sleep without even realizing it…

Spock once more sat cross legged on the floor of his apartment, lights low, heat up. It was forty three minutes after he had dropped Nyota off at her dorm, and he found peace in the familiar atmosphere. His semi-meditation while outside Nyota's dorm had not effectively centered him. He allowed his mind to dwell on the sensory memory of her body beside his on the bench; he could not quantify why this had not bothered him, which merely discomfited him further. Sitting with a student was not against protocol; he could envision Ferrous doing the same thing for Nyota. When he conjured the image of Nyota sleeping on the man's shoulder, however, a mess of emotion surfaced. He sorted through them meticulously: disapproval, discomfort, jealousy? The latter was inappropriate; he wished he had the true Vulcan strength to completely banish this emotion, but he found he could not. His brow furrowed minutely.

Although he had not finished the mental exercise, he opened his eyes and stood, almost petulantly, to disrobe. He increased the heat by another degree, deciding his comfort warranted the increase in his heating bill as he could calculate it in a state of mental agitation. Lying down on his bed wearing only his undergarments, he decided the topic of why he had wished to continue their conversation could wait until the next morning. The process of clearing his mind for sleep took two minutes and nineteen seconds longer than usual.

Cool hands were brushing her skin. They felt like a pleasantly chilled glass of water on a hot summer day except softer and gentler as they trailed over her shoulder and up her neck slowly. But really they were at her waist, which was bare because she was still wearing her Cleopatra costume. She could feel the presence of his mind close by, but not quite attainable; she frowned and tried to reach out and find it, to feel that soothing calmness again. She could remember exactly the feeling she wanted to recall—wasn't it that protectiveness that had felt so enveloping? No, she wanted the calm, because his hands on her skin felt so exquisite…

Just as she felt she was about to really touch his mind, Nyota awoke suddenly, her blanket tangled around her legs but pulled off of her stomach; her bare skin was cold without any covering. She huffed a sigh and rolled over, pulling the blanket up to her chin and trying not to think about cool Vulcan fingers…

The next morning the whole campus slept late. Sunday brunch was packed with late risers still recovering from the night before; Nyota suspected many more were still passed out in dorm rooms.

This was where Sarah finally found her roommate. A bowl of assorted fruit sat in front of Nyota, and Ling and Jon were conversing beside her. Sarah came up with a plate of pancakes in her hand and a grimace on her face.

"Ny! There you are! Gaila—and I should have—I totally forgot—I am so sorry!" she blathered as she placed the plate heavily on the table. "Are you totally mad at me again?"

Nyota looked up at her red rimmed yet somehow still radiant eyes and shook her head. "Naw, it's alright, Mory. Ling took me in."

Sarah sat down beside her and started hacking up her pancakes mercilessly. "I am so sorry I abandoned you, I forgot I left the room locked. It completely escaped my mind that Gaila would probably be bogarting the room…"

"As long as you had a good time…" Nyota smirked.

Sarah took this as an invitation. "You have to meet him, Ny, he's so great. He wouldn't come to breakfast, but you'll meet him soon…"

Nyota listened with half an ear and pretended not to be scanning the room for a certain professor. She knew he rarely came to campus to eat on Sundays, but she couldn't help herself anyway.

Sarah finally remembered herself and asked, "What about you and Librarian?"

Nyota scowled. "You mean me and jackass?"

Sarah's jaw fell open. "What'd he do?" she demanded.

Nyota sighed and explained how they'd gone back to the dorm and he'd gotten drunk and held her... "And so clearly I kneed him and booked it." Sarah smirked. "I could have taken the two who followed me, especially since they were drunk, but I didn't really want to get a reprimand…"

"So you went for back up?" Sarah assumed.

"Yeah. Spock showed up…" she said, glancing around to make sure no one else was listening.

"Oh really?" Sarah smirked. "Knight in shining armor, was he?"

Nyota rolled her eyes. "Shut up, Mory. He was just doing what he was supposed to do."

"So did you two go back to the rec center and—"

"Whatever the ending of that sentence is, no," Nyota cut her off, judging by Sarah's expression that she didn't want to let her finish. "I went back to the dorm to theoretically go to bed," she said, making Sarah look guilty again, "and when you weren't there, he offered to wait around with me."

Sarah looked surprised. "Really? How…gentlemanly."

"I know, right?" Nyota responded distractedly. Her small smile did not escape Sarah's notice.

"Was it…awkward?" she asked, trying to imagine sitting with Commander Spock for any amount of time.

"No," Nyota shook her head. "Not at all. It was…" Sarah waited expectantly for the adjective, but was disappointed. "…nice," Nyota finished, unable to find the right descriptor.

"How long were you waiting together?"

"I don't know," Nyota shrugged. Deciding to skip the part where she fell asleep, she said, "Maybe an hour? And then I finally decided you weren't coming back and called Ling."

"Did you say my name?" Ling asked, turning towards them.

"I was just telling Sarah what happened last night."

"Oh. How was your night, Sarah?" Ling asked. Nyota just sat back to hear the story again as Sarah perked up.

Spock ate his breakfast slowly, savoring his plomeek tea; it wasn't the same as when he drank it on planet, but it still evoked memories of his mother.

Speaking to his father might be beneficial in his circumstance, he knew; however, he had not spoken to his father in years, and he was not sure he could bring up the subject if he had. He was aware that his father had spent some time unbonded, though he did not know the exact amount of time. Speaking of emotions and attachments, however, had never worked well for the two Vulcans. His mother might be able to help concerning the social protocol, but he did not wish to bring the situation to her attention, and she would be more likely to encourage his feelings than assist him in repressing them.

He decided his eagerness to extend the conversation with Cadet Uhura was merely caused by the opportunity for mental stimulation. He and the Cadet often had interesting conversations; it was not illogical to pursue them. Her nearness was not uncomfortable because they knew each other relatively well and she was not imposing willfully. As she needed rest, it was logical to allow her to sleep comfortably.

He rose and placed his bowl and mug in his dishwasher fastidiously before turning to fetch his bag of clothes to exercise.

**A/N part II **I live for reviews these days…

Also, I want to warn everyone that the coming week is very busy for me. I apologize in advance because I know it'll be a while before I can post again, but thanks for the support! After next week I will hopefully I have a bit more time…


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer **I don't own Spock, Nyota, or Gaila…or Chekov!

**Chapter Twenty**

Nyota was trying to work on her translation. Sitting on the bed, she had her two versions of _Ha-kiv t'Verat_ open before her on her PADD, one in Vulcan, the other Federation Standard. Gaila sat at the desktop, humming idly as she worked. She found herself thinking she should try again to get Gaila to chorus; she had a pleasant alto range. She tried to force her mind back to her translation, but only copied over half a sentence before her mind wandered back to Spock.

No matter what she did, her dream kept coming back to her. Rarely did she remember her dreams, but this one was sticking with her. It felt like too much, too far, to imagine him like that, with his cool hands at her waist and his delicate ears close enough to touch…Nyota rubbed her eyes. She couldn't do this.

Saving her documents, she stood and let the PADD fall onto her bed. Gaila looked around at her, mildly curious.

"I can't concentrate," Nyota explained, moving to her closet. "Gym," she said as she grabbed her workout clothes and headed out of the dorm. Gaila just nodded mutely and watched her go.

Nyota walked so quickly across campus she didn't even notice the sunshine; lots of students were outside basking in it even though the air was brisk. Nyota only nodded to those who greeted her.

When she stepped inside the expansive Physical Arts Complex, she paused. She could dance, do yoga, use an exercise machine, lift weights…or see if anyone wanted to spar. That latter sounded good; she headed for the stairs.

XXXXX

Forty minutes later she was drenched in sweat, calling off another round.

"You have had enough?" asked the ensign she had found willing to spar with her. The young Russian had introduced himself as "Chekov! Pavel Chekov!" with a beaming grin. She had soon decided that she liked him.

"Yes, I'm done," she groaned, rolling her neck.

"You made it quite a long time," he said, almost proudly. Nyota laughed as he stood calmly in front of her.

"You sound surprised!" she accused him.

"You are small," he shrugged as she led him out of the open-use room.

She laughed again. "Let this be a lesson to you, Pavel," she advised. "Small does not mean weak. That's something you should know!"

"Alright, I know it now, Nyota," he nodded, his eyes still sparkling. "I will see you later sometime?"

"I hope so," she grinned, and he waved before retreating to the showers. "Thanks!" she called after him.

She sighed contentedly. Exercising had done its job; she felt like she'd be able to focus now. She considered the women's showers, but had forgotten her toiletries in her distraction…She'd dash across campus and shower back at the dorm. After going to the bathroom to splash water across her face and pull her hair back up, she shouldered her bag and started back downstairs.

On her way out she passed several open-use rooms. Right after she passed one she stopped and backtracked; through the small window she saw two men apparently sparring. One was dripping with sweat, and seemed to be acknowledging his defeat; Commander Spock—she would run into him, of course!—was walking to the door.

Before she could move, he opened the door as he swung a duffel bag over his shoulder. When he saw her, he tilted his head. "Nyota," he nodded.

Why was it still weird when he called her by her first name? She thought she was over it… "Commander!" she greeted him, trying not to fidget. She knew she was still sweaty, how gross. Spock, on the other hand, looked entirely composed, with not a bead of sweat on him.

Spock made sure his surprise did not show in his expression; he had not anticipated meeting Nyota here. He had come, in part, to clear her from his mind. The physical exertion had produced the desired effect, in fact. He had felt quite centered and focused after his exercise with Professor Winthrop. He had never met the man before, and had defeated him fairly easily, but the process worked nonetheless. Now, however…

The cadet's thin t-shirt seemed to be clinging to her in interesting ways. He could smell salt quite distinctly, but it was not unpleasant. Her scent was much more pleasing than Professor Winthrop's at least.

Nyota watched Spock's partner (victim?) leave the room for the showers, rubbing a towel over his head. He looked exhausted, and yet Spock was barely breathing harder than usual.

"You did a number on him," Nyota muttered.

Spock tilted his head again, and Nyota wondered if she would understand all the meanings of the one movement if she couldn't feel his emotions. This one, she was fairly sure, expressed slight surprise and curiosity.

"I assume that means I defeated him easily?"

"It means you defeated him _completely_," Nyota amended. "You don't even look tired."

"I only exerted moderate energy to overcome him. I am younger, more fit, am more proficient in _t'hy'vaj _and have the advantage of my species," he explained simply as he motioned for her to precede him toward the stairs.

"The advantages of your species?" she almost laughed.

"Vulcans have denser body mass, are accustomed to higher gravity and are generally stronger than humans," Spock explained as he followed Nyota toward the stairs, studying the curve of her back apparent under her t-shirt. "This is studied fact. As I am biologically essentially Vulcan, I experience these advantages in physical combat."

"And you don't sweat," Nyota couldn't help adding.

"Indeed we do not," he answered. He was behind her on the stairs, so she unfortunately couldn't see his expression. "It would not be an efficient means of cooling body temperature in desert creatures."

"Fair enough," Nyota acknowledged. It was still weird. She pushed open the doors and this time appreciated the sunlight filling the campus. Spock fell into step beside her.

His hands tucked behind his back, he asked, "Have you experienced any adverse affects from your confrontation last night?"

"No, not at all," Nyota said. "It totally wasn't a big deal." Unless he was referring to the part after the "ordeal," when they sat together. In that case she would have to mention her new, disturbing obsession with feeling his cool skin…but she should probably just trust that he was referring to being chased by two drunken men.

"Did you get back to—"

Nyota's question was cut off by a call from behind her. "Cadet Uhura!" She turned to see Dr. Ferrous jogging toward them, several papers in his hand and his grey hair flopping ridiculously in the breeze. She smiled and waved.

"Hey, Dr. Ferrous," she greeted him as he caught up to them on the path. The concrete was only wide enough for two, so Spock slipped behind them smoothly.

"Do you have a few minutes, Nyota?" Ferrous asked, glancing back at Spock in greeting. Her hand went to hair self consciously.

"Umm, could I meet you in your office in a little while? I was just exercising…" she apologized.

"Sure, that works. I have something to talk to you about…Spock, I'll see you tomorrow, right?"

The other professor nodded, and Ferrous started off the path again. "Alright, I'll see you in a bit Nyota."

Spock stepped back into place beside her. "Do you know what he wishes to discuss with you?" he asked.

Noting that he was heading toward her dorm with her—shouldn't he be headed back off campus, or at least to his office?—Nyota replied, "No, I have no idea. Maybe my class work?"

"Indeed," Spock replied enigmatically. He suspected he might know what Ferrous was planning…As they reached Nyota's dorm, he stopped and nodded to her. "I will see you in class tomorrow, Cadet."

"Bye, Spock," she smiled, eager to leave his sight and get in the shower finally.

XXXXX

"Ah, there you are, Nyota," Ferrous nodded as she opened the door to his office. "Plomeek tea?" he offered holding up a pitcher.

"No thanks. We had it in my Vulcan culture class. Not exactly…my cup of tea," she smirked. Ferrous laughed.

"Sit down, sit down. I have something else to offer," he said, pushing aside the folders on his cluttered desk.

Nyota took a seat, curious. "Oh?" she prompted.

"I may have a way to get you closer to getting on the Enterprise. You could be ready for service by the time she launches this summer."

"Really?" she asked, scooting to the front of her chair and smoothing down her skirt.

"The Senior Program classes run half semesters," he said, leaning his elbows on the desk. "Usually they're the last quarter of the year, but you can take them as independent studies if you have a professor supporting you."

"Okay. So I could finish my thesis early?

"Do you have enough done to do it?"

"Yeah, I think so. I'm getting the original copy in the next week or so hopefully, and if I push I could finish the translation…by winter break?"

Ferrous furrowed his brow. "Could you do it earlier? I think I might be able to get your final project into Commander Lee earlier than fourth quarter if you're done."

Nyota bit her lip, trying to do mental calculations…She needed a Vulcan. Forcing her mind back on topic, she asked, "What does that do for me? Won't I still have to graduate at the end of spring?"

"Yeah, but you can't gain lieutenant until you're done the project. It's weird, but I think I've got it figured out…"

"I could be lieutenant by spring?" Nyota asked, her eyebrows rising. She hadn't considered the possibility, but it would certainly increase her chances of getting the Enterprise…

"Finish your thesis early, apply to be Spock's TA for his phonology class, and take an extra lab." He pulled a sheet of paper out from a stack to his left. "If you take my course in long range sensors, you can get some experience. I was going to recommend it anyway…"

"Okay, my head is sort of spinning, but I think I can do this," Nyota half smiled, taking the sheet of paper and scanning it. "Is that the phonology class I took last semester?"

"Yeah, the one he got roped into because Prof Cory asked for leave. I suggested he get a TA, and he said he'd take applicants. You know he'd agree to work with you," he shrugged, sitting back in his chair.

"Hmm," Nyota said, trying to let the point about her career be more important than the one about working with him…She couldn't even decide, this quickly, whether she really wanted to or really didn't want to work with the half Vulcan…but that was moot, because it was what was best for her in the long run. "And you think that'll give me the edge to be lieutenant by spring?" she asked skeptically.

"Well, that and a lot of pandering," Ferrous smirked. "And one other specific course made for this kind of path, _and_ lots of good input from your professors." He paused. "It's a big push, Nyota, I know. But I only suggest it because I think you can do it. I'm sorry I didn't present it to you sooner, but I wasn't sure it was possible."

Nyota looked at him determinedly. "Officially I'm going to tell you I'll think about it. But if I know myself, I'm going to say yes."

"That's my girl," Ferrous beamed with a nod.

XXXXXXX

**A/N **I'm back, finally! Hurrah!

I have a lot of fun with Nyota because she can't keep her mouth shut =] I hadn't realized my section breaks weren't being maintained through the uploads--I apologize. I swaer they worked before...

I cannot believe I've made it to twenty chapters! There's plenty more to come, so thanks for all the support so far and I hope you all stick around. Let me know if you get bored…by reviewing!


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer **I own nothing

**Chapter Twenty One**

"Has something remarkable happened, Mother?" Spock asked with a flat expression. Amanda was practiced enough to know that it hid real concern, but still reflected on the odd way he used the word "remarkable." Perhaps it was because she had just been speaking to her very human sister.

"It's November, Spock. I wanted to wish you a happy new month," she smiled.

Spock did not reply to this, as he did not have any comment. His mother had contacted him outside of their appointed time, and he waited for her to reach her point.

However, Amanda proceeded to tell him of her day, as it happened to be evening on Vulcan though afternoon in San Francisco, with no apparent trajectory of conversation. She seemed especially happy, and though he waited to hear of some event that may have caused her felicity, he heard nothing of note.

"And you Spock? How was the Halloween party?" Amanda asked. Perhaps she had called in order to ask him about his evening, and had postponed the question to deflect his attention; he was aware of this strategy, as she had used it quite often throughout his childhood. The most important, personal questions came approximately 2/3 through the conversation.

He could not help but pause, and he saw his mother's slightly quirked lips when he did. "I was able to execute my duties satisfactorily," he responded.

His mother nodded patiently. "Did anything…remarkable happen?"

He paused again before saying, "I stopped two drunken men from harassing one of my students, Cadet Uhura."

"Drunken men? She's the one whose thesis you're helping with, right?"

"Correct."

His mother waited for him to explain, but he did not. "Well what happened?" she prompted.

"She became involved with a group of older students who imbibed too much alcohol for their systems. She attempted to leave and two of them followed her. I simply walked up and told them to desist, and they left."

Wondering if there was, perhaps, a bit more to the story, Amanda prodded, "Was she alright? Did you make sure she got to her friends?"

"Cadet Uhura assured me that she was unharmed, and I waited until I was satisfied she had somewhere to spend the night."

"Spend the night? Didn't she just go to her dorm?" Amanda frowned.

Spock sighed internally. He did not feel this information was important for his mother to hear. Perhaps it would have been more logical to omit some of the truth. "Her roommate was…occupying their room, and her other friend had not yet returned."

Amanda studied her son. Picking her words carefully, she asked, "So you felt it was your duty to wait with her?"

"Yes," Spock acknowledged. She had asked quite slowly and deliberately…Frowning minutely, he asked, "Is there a secondary question implied in the query?"

"Astute, sa-fu," Amanda smiled. "I suppose my real question was…did you also stay because you recognized the human politeness in the act?"

Spock knew his mother was eager for him to understand human customs. She had worked so hard over the years…He paused to consider the question. "No," he admitted truthfully. "I also stayed because I wished to, and believed the cadet would appreciate the gesture."

Amanda just smiled softly. That was probably even better.

XXX

"Librarian alert," Ling stage whispered across Sarah's body.

Nyota and Sarah both looked up from their desert; Mory groaned. "Oh, come on! He didn't even have the sense to stay away for a whole day?" she exclaimed.

Nyota raised an eyebrow. Marcus walked towards her, looking admittedly and satisfyingly hang-dog.

"Want me to fend him off?" Sarah offered, half way out of her seat already.

"Thanks Mory," Nyota said, "but I'll get it." Abandoning her fruit salad, she stood and walked up to Marcus, back straight. She pulled him by the arm to the side of the room and looked at him expectantly. "What?" she demanded.

"Nyota, I'm sorry!" he said sincerely, his expression repentant. "I shouldn't have taken you to Nandi's, and I shouldn't have gotten drunk."

"And?" she prompted.

Leaning toward her and dropping his voice, he finished, "And I shouldn't have grabbed you. That was low of me. I'm really sorry."

"Okay," Nyota shrugged.

His expression lightened. "Okay? You mean we're good?"

"No, Librarian, we are not 'good.' But you apologized, so okay. Now we don't have to talk to each other again," she said, face impassive.

He frowned. "What else do you want?"

"Nothing. I don't want anything else except not to talk to you."

"Just like that? No second chance?"

"You want a second chance?" she asked, finally showing emotion with a disbelieving expression. "Marcus, that was our _first date_, and you got drunk and physically assaulted me. So no, I'm not giving you a second chance."

"Assaulted? I wouldn't go that far. And you're the one who wasn't paying attention anyway, watching that half-Vulcan the whole time…"

Nyota sucked in a breath and glared at him. "Well if you think I was watching him the whole time, why do you still care anyway?" she hissed.

"I don't know," he snarled. "Maybe I don't."

"Fine, then we're done here," Nyota snapped. "Neither of us cares."

"Fine," Marcus spat, and Nyota spun on her heel to return to her table.

As soon as she threw herself into the plastic chair, she felt like a middle schooler. "You know," Sarah said, leaning over, "for that first part I thought even Spock would have been proud. But near the end there—"

"Oh, shut up," Nyota spat testily.

Sarah raised an eyebrow. "Touchy. I'm just glad he's gone."

XXX

"Aha!" Nyota grinned. Gaila looked up from her seat on the floor, where she was rubbing polish off her toenails.

"What?" she asked curiously.

"I got a message from the woman at Oteru. Look," Nyota said, leaning down from her bed to hand the PADD to her roommate. Gaila scanned the contents quickly and smiled.

"Nice. So you can start using the old version soon?"

"Yeah, I just have to decide whose computer I want to use. You know how it says it can't be a portable version? I think I'll have to get a professor to host it on their desk top…" Nyota explained, standing to take back her PADD and move to the door. "I'll be right back."

Wearing just her favorite yoga pants and a tee, Nyota slipped down the dark hallway to Sarah's room and knocked. "Mory, let me in," she called, leaning against the door.

"Ny? Just a sec," came the answer; five seconds later Sarah's head appeared in a cracked open door. "Hey," she smiled.

"You hiding something?" Nyota asked, peering over her friend's head into the room.

Shrugging, Sarah opened the door farther. "Just Benji."

On Sarah's floor sat a shaggy blond haired boy with sad-ish eyes and a cute half smile. "Nyota," Sarah gestured, "this is Benji. Benji, Nyota."

Nyota brightened and stepped into Sarah's room. "Is this…?" she trailed off. Sarah nodded covertly while Benji scrambled to his feet. "Nice to meet you," Nyota grinned.

"Likewise," he nodded quietly.

Nyota looked between the two of them curiously. He wasn't Sarah's usual type…but maybe that was a good thing, considering how Sarah's usual relationships tended to go…

Sarah was just looking at Benji fondly, so Nyota held up her PADD. "I have good news," she offered.

"Oh?" Sarah asked, finally turning back to her.

"I can use the Oteru version of the document as soon as I have a faculty desktop computer."

"Oh, cool," Sarah smiled, taking the PADD to skim the message. "You gonna use Spock's…or Ferrous'?" she asked, looking up.

Nyota glanced over at Benji. She had kind of wanted to discuss this…and tell Sarah about Ferrous' offer of that morning. But she couldn't send off Benji, especially if this was a new thing…

"I'm not sure yet," she answered, shrugging it off. "Probably Spock's. I just wanted to let you know," she said, backing toward the door again. She knew Sarah didn't particularly care at that moment; she didn't mind. They'd talk about it later. Maybe the next morning before Subspace…

"I'm excited!" Sarah said. "Tell me more tomorrow morning?"

Nyota nodded. "Yeah, I'll see you at breakfast. Nice to meet you, Benji," she smiled again before leaving. That relationship needed some breaking in, she thought as she returned to her dorm.

XXXXXXX

**A/N **I know it's _really_ short…But I want to just move on to more interesting things that don't fit in this chapter. I'm doing my best, I promise.

Please take the time to leave a review—it's incredibly inspiring!


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer **Paramount owns the characters…I give my thanks to Gene and JJ

**Chapter Twenty Two**

The next morning, however, Benji met Sarah at breakfast shortly after Nyota did. Clearly uncomfortable, he was introduced to Jon, Andrew, and Ling, and then sat next to Sarah quietly.

Nyota asked Jon about his Halloween, which had apparently involved a lot of whipped cream and fake eyeballs, and told him about hers; he was outraged that he hadn't been there to rescue her.

"It's alright," she laughed, "Commander Spock saved the day."

They walked together with Ling to Subspace, as Andrew had somewhere else to be and Sarah was lagging behind.

"Ugh, I forgot this stage," Jon whined quietly with a glance back at Sarah, who was walking twenty feet behind them with Benji.

"Hush," Nyota warned.

"Oh, she won't hear me," he waved her off. "How long did it last with Brian? Maybe a couple of weeks?"

"It was worse with Ren, remember?" Ling added. Nyota looked at her surprised while Jon nodded emphatically.

"That was at least three weeks before they functioned in public."

Trying not to giggle, Nyota said, "Don't gossip! I happen to remember one couple who took a while to settle down…" she said, looking at Jon pointedly.

Pretending to be scandalized, he held open the door to the Physics building and motioned her in. "You're one to talk. What about…"

XXX

Spock looked up as his students began to file in. He rarely arrived before his students, but he had agreed to meet Ferrous in his classroom earlier instead of in his office as a matter of convenience.

"You and Jelani were insufferable when you first got together," Cadet Whitman was saying to Nyota, rolling his eyes theatrically. Spock pretended to be content on his PADD as he listened.

"Jon! We were not!"

"Yes you were," her companion replied good-naturedly as he settled into his seat. "All the cuddling and nuzzling…I felt indecent just watching you."

The comment, accompanied by Nyota's whacking the cadet on the arm with a laugh, caused an acute spike of an unpleasant sensation in Spock's mind. He stood abruptly to begin class even though Cadet Morris had not arrived. She skulked in thirty eight seconds later looking penitent.

XXX

"I have good news," Nyota informed him as he locked the classroom and she started the walk to his office. He merely met her gaze in acknowledgement and she took the cue to continue. "I can have access to the Oteru document as soon as I have a host computer."

"You cannot access it portably?" Spock assumed.

"Right."

"My office desktop would be a logical location," he suggested as he held open the door outside for her.

Nyota smiled. She'd been trying to work out the phrasing to ask him. "_Thank you. I think it'll be the most convenient place."_

She smiled and chatted the rest of the way to their destination, and she pulled up the message for him to read. "_Sending her a message now would be expedient; perhaps we can set it up this afternoon,"_ Spock proposed.

"Oh, perfect," Nyota agreed, and she drafted her reply while maintaining a running commentary with Spock. He acknowledged this as a more complex concurrence of tasks than he would have accredited to a human mind.

Eliciting a small, intriguing squeal from the cadet, the woman from Oteru University replied by the time they arrived at Spock's office.

"She said we can speak with her as soon as we're available to set it up," Nyota beamed.

As Spock sat down in his chair, he nodded, "Very well. I'll vid her now." Unlocking the desktop, he held out a hand for Nyota's PADD, which had the woman's ID information for contacting her. His video conference was promptly set up, waiting for her response.

The woman who answered was an elderly, classically librarian sort of woman with kind eyes, Nyota thought. "_Greetings. _This is Nancy Carraway; I presume you are Cadet Uhura and Commander Spock?"

Nyota had pulled a chair around the back of Spock's desk to have a better angle for the desktop screen, and she leaned forward in her seat to be foremost in the shot.

"Yes," she smiled. "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Carraway! _You speak Vulcan?"_

"_Only a little_," Mrs. Carraway replied. "I've been trying to teach myself with the resources here, which is why I was so excited to see your request," she said.

Spock predicted a long, pointless conversation about frivolities could follow such a comment, so he preempted it by saying, "We are prepared to install the document on this computer for security."

He missed Nyota's irritated glance (she thought he was being rude), but Mrs. Carraway responded easily. "Wonderful. Are you running the latest version of Jalcorp NPC?"

Nyota tried not to giggle at his indignation at such a ridiculous question. "Of course," he nodded.

"Alright, I'll just have to verify your identity; if you'd log into CitizenPro, please…"

Nyota watched him execute each step meticulously and quickly; quite shortly the document came up on the screen with one click and a password. She studied the flowing characters eagerly, then switched back to the vid screen.

"It's perfect," she said. "Thank you, Mrs. Carraway."

"_You are welcome_," the old woman smiled in response. "You're all set, right? If you have any questions or issues, go ahead and contact me. I'll be happy to help."

"Thanks again," Nyota said. The old woman nodded at Spock, who nodded back, and she signed off. "I'm so excited," she grinned. Spock waited for her to remove her chair from behind his desk, but she neglected to do so. He had found her quite distracting while setting up the program and security. But she only scooted her chair closer to the desk so as to control the desktop. "_It's so beautiful."_

"_Do you need to ask me anything about Subspace Physics today, or are you going to work on your translation?" _Spock asked her, subtly moving his chair away from hers.

"_I need to work on Ha-kiv t'Verat,"_ Nyota said, twisting in her chair to look at him. "I haven't told you—Dr. Ferrous wants me to finish my thesis early."

Spock raised an eyebrow.

"I know, it's weird. But he thinks I can gain lieutenant next spring if my project is done early and I do some other accelerated stuff. Which reminds me…" She sat up straighter in her chair and turned all the way towards him. "Dr. Ferrous told me you're teaching Advanced Phonology next semester." She switched unconsciously to Vulcan. _"I believe it would be mutually beneficial if I were to work as your Teacher's Assistant, as I would gain experience for my resume and you would not experience such a dramatic decrease in leisure time. Therefore I respectfully put my name in for your consideration." _Watching him expectantly, Nyota began to mentally run through all the other arguments she'd compiled the night before.

Spock studied her, intrigued. He had suspected Ferrous might suggest the option to Nyota. He had looked up her credentials because of the possibility and found that she had earned the highest marks of her class when she took Advanced Phonology even though she was one of two juniors among seniors. He knew her work habits, trusted her responsibility, and knew she would—nearly always—follow his orders. As an added benefit, he would not have to endure the uncomfortable period of adjusting to someone he did not know. His experience on Terra had taught him that not all humans cooperated with his Vulcan habits as easily as Nyota did.

The young woman had opened her mouth again, presumably to continue to convince him of her suitability, but he cut her off. "_I agree that the situation would be mutually beneficial. I will file the necessary paper work."_

For a moment, Nyota looked surprised, but then her very aesthetically pleasing smile stretched across her face. "Wonderful," she said; then she turned back to the computer screen, pulled out her PADD, and began back at the beginning. "I want to find that word for thirsty…"

As she worked, Nyota thought Spock seemed particularly pensive, sitting behind her, but she couldn't be sure. She worked slowly through the handwritten manuscript, asking Spock's opinion concerning several difficult-to-decipher words.

"_Will you be uncomfortable if I increase the heat?"_ he asked quietly.

"_No,"_ she replied, shifting in her chair and flashing to the imagined feeling of his cool skin again. It was happening frequently, but she was trying to ignore it.

Lulled by the heat, Nyota's work slowed. She stayed later than usual because she felt she hadn't done enough work, and Spock did not comment. He seemed to be working on something on his PADD, and she could feel his contentment.

When the commander heard the subtle grumbling of her stomach, he looked up. Coming closer to acting on impulse then he had in years, he asked, "_Would you like to go to lunch, Nyota?"_

Surprised, she twisted around to see his dark eyes on her expressionlessly. "_I could work a little more. Do you need me to go?"_

"_I meant would you like to go to lunch with me," _he amended impassively.

"Oh." She paused, absorbing. "If…if you want to."

"As a celebration of your progress?" Nyota found it strange to hear him ask a statement as a question; he was usually so sure of himself.

"_That would be appropriate,"_ she smiled. Spock turned off his PADD and stood, then paused.

"_Do you wish to eat in the dining hall…or at a restaurant? Do you have time to eat off campus?"_

Ignoring the uncomfortable, uncertain swoop of her stomach, Nyota, too, stood and nodded cautiously. "_I do," _she replied.

Spock reached around her carefully to close the document safely and power down the machine.

"If you are amenable, I would like to eat at an Indian restaurant which I am partial to."

Nyota smiled. "That sounds fabulous."

XXX

They discovered, as they walked outside, that the grey San Franciscan skies had given up their fight and begun to let their water stream down over the quiet campus. They walked under separate umbrellas, far apart though surprisingly close, along the path that led away from the Academy towards downtown. The pair looked mismatched: one wore black and carried a black umbrella; the other wore red and carried a jaunty teal umbrella; and yet they suited each other. Nyota could not help but notice how surreal it felt to be walking with Spock towards town to eat lunch with him.

Sarah had eaten lunch with professors before. Gaila ate breakfast with her advisor every Thursday morning. Nyota herself had, on occasion, shared a meal with Ferrous quite amiably. Therefore she could not place why this felt different. Unsure whether this was a good or bad thing, Nyota acknowledged that she now had no control over it, and so accepted it.

Spock, meanwhile, listened to her soft tread over the wet sidewalk. He knew that his coworkers occasionally took their students out to lunch to discuss academic subjects over food; he, however, had never seen the need to share a meal with one of his students. But Nyota had been hungry, neither of them was occupied…and he had asked.

"I haven't had Indian food in ages," Nyota told him as he directed her the right way when they left campus. He rarely replied to her statements of fact, but he didn't seem to mind them, either, so Nyota continued to speak as he led her through the streets with an easy familiarity. "We didn't have it at home except at some of my father's functions. Do you have it a lot?"

"With relative frequency, yes," he replied. "They offer many vegetarian options."

"Of course."

Blinking out through the rain streaked dimness, the restaurant's sign neared them. Spock's hand hovered behind her elbow as he directed her inside.

"Good afternoon, sir," greeted the short man inside with familiarity. With a glance at Nyota, he asked, "Will your usual table do?"

"Yes, thank you," Spock murmured, and he let Nyota wind through the empty tables before him while Indian radio played overhead.

XXXXX


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer **Not mine!

**Chapter Twenty Three**

"_So you think I can do it_?" Nyota asked as she pulled apart a piece of naan.

"_Yes_," Spock nodded.

They had nearly finished eating, the detritus of their meal was spread before them, and Nyota had explained Ferrous' plans for her.

"_I was surprised you took me as an aide right away…"_

"_I had no reason to delay. I sent the documents to Commander Lee while you were working."_

"_You did?" _Nyota looked excited, and Spock dipped his head in acknowledgment. "_Thank you. It'll be good, I think."_

As she thanked him, she naturally reached out a hand to place it on his. As soon as she felt herself committed to the action, she felt surprised at herself; but at that moment, her fingers grazed the skin on the back of his hand.

He froze, as she did in response. He was staring at where her skin had brushed his. He was cool, just like she had imagined, and she'd felt a sort of spark, like the emotions she usually had a glimpse into, but stronger; like distilled presence. But as she pulled her hand back like she'd been burned, she focused on the comparatively dull feelings she could still sense: shock…shallow disapproval, maybe confusion...and…longing?

Spock was trying to compose himself. Incidental touch was one of his least favorite human tendencies. He had felt her mind quite distinctly, if passingly.

Nyota's eyes flickered up to meet his; the dark brown orbs appraised her impassively, but she could feel a foreign intensity underneath.

"I'm—sorry," she stuttered, feeling flustered.

"There is no need to apologize," he uttered, his eyes sliding back to his hand again. "It is your habit when laughing with others to initiate contact to the forearm. Humans have difficulty breaking habits."

Nyota bit her lip, wanting to apologize again. But then she couldn't feel anything at all from him, and found herself popping her last piece of naan in her mouth.

The waiter had been watching them, supposedly covertly; Spock assumed he was intrigued by the foreign language. At the pause in their conversation, the young man approached them to ask if they'd finished.

"Yes, I'm done, thank you," Nyota smiled, doing her best to forget the strange moment. "And I don't have a fridge, so just take the rest. I wish I could take it home."

"The same for me," Spock said quietly.

When the waiter came back with a check, Spock picked it up without a glance at her. She opened her mouth to protest, but without looking up, Spock appeased her, "Did I not call this a celebratory meal? I believe it is custom to 'treat' one's guest."

Nyota couldn't argue with that.

XXX

As they left the restaurant Nyota experienced a frenzied moment when she wondered which direction Spock's apartment lay in. They had eaten, she'd enjoyed herself, and now she expected…what? A something from her reserved, professional, Vulcan professor? She shook her head as she snapped open her umbrella; fighting away these ridiculous expectations of the man was growing increasingly difficult.

As they stepped back onto campus, Nyota's laugh sent a mixture of triumph and fascination through Spock. They had returned under one umbrella, though he still maintained a careful slice of insulation between them.

"Spock! Commander Spock!" They both turned to see Commander Lee approaching them under his own black umbrella, a curious expression on his face. Nyota felt her wonderful afternoon dissipate.

Pausing on the path, they waited for the short, round, but somehow imposing man to catch up to them. Noticing his bemused glance at the teal umbrella, Nyota tried not to smirk. Spock, on the other hand, was feeling defensive and wary.

When he reached them, Commander Lee nodded, "Spock. Cadet…"

"Uhura, sir," Nyota supplied respectfully. His eyebrows shot up, and he glanced behind them, to where the path led off campus. Sliding his eyes away from hers, he addressed Spock.

"Commander, I need to speak to you." His eyes flashed to Nyota again. "Concerning some documents you sent to me earlier today."

"Yes, sir. Do you wish me to meet you in your office?" Spock asked.

"I would prefer if you came with me now," Lee responded peremptorily.

Apparently Spock missed the command in his voice. "I should walk the cadet back to her dormato—"

"Don't be silly, go with him now, Sp—Commander," Nyota said hurriedly. She didn't like the look on Lee's face. Spock looked down at her with a raised eyebrow, but judiciously decided to do as she said.

Spock nodded curtly. "Very well. I will accompany you now," he said to Lee.

Commander Lee waited impatiently as Nyota took her umbrella and Spock produced his own; without comment he began the walk toward his office at a brisk pace. Nyota watched them go with trepidation.

XXX

"You sent me a request to have Cadet Uhura as a Teacher's Aide next semester for Advanced Phonology."

Commander Lee sat behind his desk, his extra flesh spilling over his chair. His round, flat face looked expectantly at Spock, who stood before him with his hands behind his back. As he had not asked a question, the lieutenant commander stayed silent.

"Correct?" Lee prompted the younger man.

"Correct," Spock replied, slightly bemused. Surely they both knew what documents had passed between them?

"I was not aware you wanted a TA," Lee informed him; but again he stopped. Each waited for the other to speak; when Spock did not explain, Lee continued, already slightly exasperated. "Did you take applications, Spock?"

Spock was glad for a direct question to answer. "I did not."

When he failed to explain farther, Lee prompted him, "So why do I have this request on my computer?"

"Cadet Uhura put forward her name as a consideration, and I had contemplated requesting a Teaching Assistant. As we are well suited to working together, I accepted her request."

"You can't just take the first one who puts their name in," Lee frowned, his face seeming to droop as though with its extra weight.

"I checked Uhura's credentials; she is the best suited."

"But you didn't even have an applicant pool, how can you know she's the best option?" Lee demanded.

"She received the highest grades of her class last year in Advanced Phonology despite being one of two juniors; she is currently earning the highest marks in both of her language classes; she was recommended to me by a colleague; and she consistently completes work thoroughly in my Advanced Subspace Communicative Physics course."

"Aren't you her thesis advisor too?" Lee asked. Despite his skill at computing complex equations in his head and leaping to precise conclusions, Spock failed to see the connection between the man's queries.

"I am one of two, yes," he said.

"This reeks of favoritism, Spock," Lee announced with an assertive nod. "You will open the pool for applicants, Commander, and I'm having someone impartial look over them, too." He met his inferior's gaze for a long moment, but the young man did not respond, or even blink at the command. "You're dismissed."

Spock turned silently to leave the office and closed the door politely just as Lee let out a deep sigh.

XXX

Nyota walked back to her dorm through the rain pensively. When she told Gaila she'd been out to lunch with Spock, her roommate just smirked.

"It was to celebrate getting the document set up!" Nyota insisted as she threw herself onto her bed. "I'm so excited to work on it, except I can't do anything with it here, which sucks…" Feeling restive already, she pulled out her PADD to unsuccessfully work on other homework. Only a mediocre chunk of paragraph was written by the time a new message popped into her inbox.

She grimaced when she saw it was from Spock; had Commander Lee called him out for something? But the message was short and merely asked if she wanted to meet him the next day to receive his door and desktop passkeys that she might work on her thesis whenever she wanted to. Quickly tapping out a reply, she thanked him and said it sounded perfect.

XXX

The next morning Nyota slipped over to Spock's office where he promptly answered her knock. She looked at him warily, still worried he was going to tell her Lee had accused him of…something. What was she scared of anyway? But he let her in and felt quite calm and satisfied, she thought.

"The door passkey is 4V6BDGAW; do you need to write it down?" he asked.

Nyota laughed and reached for her PADD. "That would be a yes."

"Please make sure it is under a password."

"Of course. What is it again?"

He repeated it twice for her to write down, then rattled off his desktop password, which he also had to repeat. "You are welcome to come in if I am not here. Do you have a work schedule for your project?"

Shaking her head, she replied, "I don't know enough of the variables. I never know how much homework I'll have when, so I just do as much as I can whenever I can."

"Do you have time now?" he asked.

"Actually, yeah," Nyota said; she had been considering asking for time to work.

"Then you are welcome to," he said with a sweep of his hand. He didn't move from where he stood two feet from his desk, so Nyota sidled past him, surprised he didn't mind her proximity. As he watched her log onto his desktop, he said, "You have worked in the sensor array lab before and plan to next semester, correct?"

Nyota looked around at him curiously. "Yeah…"

"More exposure would prepare you for a communications assignment. I have access to the lab and have some work assigned to me. Would you like to assume some of those responsibilities?"

Nyota's eyebrows went up. "Sensor lab time? That'd be…great."

"Very well," he nodded curtly. "I have a class to teach; if you leave before I return, please lock the door," he said before turning and leaving without further goodbye.

XXX

Working alone in Spock's office was, at first, strange. She felt intrusive and lonely and kind of weird; however, she soon spent enough time there to become comfortable. She was determined to spend any and all free moments working on her translation; she quickly caught up to herself with the older version and started working straight from the Oteru document. She got to know Spock's schedule so well that she was rarely on the desktop when he needed it, but she'd just stay to do other work and chat.

Spock became more used to having a companion while he worked than he ever had in his life. Nyota's quiet presence was more welcome than solitude sometimes.

And she began to help him with sensor array duties. Mainly she went on off hours to practice, but also did some of Spock's work organizing data.

"Do you not trust me?" she asked the first time he looked over her shoulder as she worked. He raised an eyebrow at her but soon recognized the tell-tale tilt to her eyes and lips that meant she was teasing, despite her exaggerated pout.

"Perhaps I do not," he countered, sliding his eyes back to her flawless work. She laughed, and couldn't help but notice his feeling of satisfaction when she did.

So when they weren't spending afternoons in his office, they spent evenings in the array lab. Sarah didn't comment because she was busy with Benji—in fact, Nyota expected that if she hadn't become so suddenly busy, she would have become quite annoyed at her friend—and Gaila only made a few innuendos once in a while (par for the course, really).

Meanwhile Spock had sent out a message to his colleagues in the language department about the Advanced Phonology TA position. As he knew Nyota was the most logical option, he felt this was a large waste of his time. Nevertheless, several applications found their way to his inbox. As he read the fifth one he sighed; he would have to ask Lee for his impartial supervisor soon, and he expected the Commander would insist on interviews. Spock did not anticipate the process.

XXX

One day Spock came upon Nyota just as she was typing in the passkey to his office door.

Noting the lack of PADD in her hand, he asked, "You do not have to look up the passkey anymore?"

"I haven't for a while," she replied, motioning him in before her. "I made an acronym."

He turned to her with a raised eyebrow; she swore she could feel more from him now. She felt his curiosity and how he was very mildly impressed, but also his contentment at entering his office with her to work quietly. She had gotten to know how he relished routine and procedures he knew. He liked his puzzles, too, and was excited by scientific and mathematical unknowns; but social conundrums just made him uneasy.

"Four Vulcans and Six Betazeds Don't Get Along Well," she said. Spock looked confused. "The acronym—it helps me remember the passkey. I can't just remember random numbers and letters, but I can remember a sentence."

"Interesting solution," Spock acknowledged.

"We make up for not having perfect memories. Do you need the desktop?" Nyota asked as she went over to the environment controls to bump up the temperature.

As he settled into his own chair, Spock replied, "I do not." The two chairs behind the desk were immediately next to each other; whoever needed the desktop determined who took which. Nyota moved past him to the other chair with a hand sliding across the back of his.

With a few practiced clicks, she signed into the machine; but before she could pull open the Oteru document, a little green light began blinking in the corner of the screen. Naturally, she clicked it, and Spock's conference system popped up. "You have a call," she said, and immediately felt Spock lean closer. "From…" she looked at the heading of the call and felt an ineffable thrill go down her back. "…'Mother.'"

XXXXX

**A/N **So I'm not sure how this chapter worked out…The summarizing-ish section was kind of weird. I think this one is staying as is, but I'd appreciate comments on it for future reference. A bit longer, at least.

To my loyal, wonderful, patient readers: I know some of you are, right now, slightly disappointed by their non-date. Let me tell you, so am I, and so is Nyota. I know this relationship is progressing slowly, especially for the fanfiction world. But you all know you secretly like it =D and I'm sticking to my guns. This is a _Vulcan _and his _student_. At the same time, I thank you for sticking around without even so much as a kiss as a reward. I promise you—it _is _coming.

One more thing—I hate only updating once a week! If only homework didn't get in the way…but I'll be done in a few (long) weeks! Hurrah!


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer** This is all Paramount's.

**Chapter Twenty Four**

Spock checked his internal clock; it was 16:43 on Terra and, he calculated, 07:14 on Vulcan. His mother did not often rise before the sun.

"Do you want me to go?" Nyota asked. Her professor's eyes slid to hers.

"I do not believe that will be necessary," he replied. She stood and stepped around the desk to bury her head in a PADD.

"_Hello, Mother," _Spock greeted as he answered the chime. Nyota wished she could see the woman on the screen.

"Good morning, sa-fu," replied a pleasant female voice. Nyota bit her lip. This felt strange. "Well, I suppose it's probably not morning there. What time is it?"

"16:44. Is it not 7:15 on Vulcan, Mother?" Spock studied his mother's face. She sat in the living area, with a dark window behind her. Though she appeared slightly tired, Amanda seemed perfectly cheerful for so early in the morning.

"Have you ever done those ridiculous calculations wrong? I'm sure you can say better than me when sunrise will be," Amanda replied with a smile.

"In approximately 10.3 minutes." Both women in the room smiled, though they couldn't see that they shared the reaction. "Before you continue, I must tell you we have company," Spock informed Amanda.

"Oh?" she asked, surprised he had answered her call with someone else present.

Swiveling the monitor around, Spock explained, "This is Cadet Uhura. She is using my desktop as a secure location for a document with which she is working."

Nyota smiled shyly at the camera. Eagerly she studied the woman who watched her curiously in return; her short graying hair framed her face neatly; the only feature she found in common between mother and son was, perhaps, the high cheekbones. But the woman's face was softer, her expression freer, her eyes bigger and lighter. Nyota never would have matched the two together.

"Nice to meet you, Cadet Uhura," she said with a lightness her son never possessed. "I'm Amanda Grayson. I believe I've heard about you."

Nyota flushed, wondering what stories _Spock_ had relayed to his _mother_ about _her._ "Nyota, please," she smiled. "It's nice to meet you, too. I was surprised Spock didn't banish me from the room…"

Amanda caught the playful glance toward her son and almost tilted her head in curiosity. "Me too," she laughed. To the regret of both women, Spock swiveled the monitor back to himself.

"I assumed the call would not be of a personal nature."

"Not in particular. But now you can't exclude the girl," his mother said. Before Spock could do anything, Nyota had danced around the desk to sit in the second chair and Amanda laughed. "I just couldn't sleep very well, so I decided to call. For some reason I kept thinking about Thanksgiving…"

"Hmm, I hadn't really realized it was coming up," Nyota said cheerfully. "How lovely, I love Thanksgiving."

"Me, too," Amanda smiled. "I've missed it since I've been on Vulcan. I celebrate, of course, but it's not the same when nobody else cares…"

"Does your husband enjoy it?" Nyota asked innocently. Immediately she felt Spock tense and she stiffened in response. Looking at Amanda closely, she saw her shoulders close slightly, but her smile stayed on her lips and she answered, "As much as he does any of my silly Terran holidays." Smoothly changing the subject, she asked, "Will you get to go home?"

"I doubt it," Nyota shrugged, letting the moment pass. "My family is back in Kenya, and it's a bit far, so I usually just wait for winter break."

"But the transportation can't be so long if it's intraplanetary…"

Spock watched with fascination as his mother and student began an easy conversation despite just having met. Instead of listening to the free chatter, he covertly studied Nyota as she leaned her head on her hands and her long hair fell over her shoulders. He was surprised to find that this felt comfortable, and reflected on Nyota's increased presence in his life. She felt natural, and she fit, something he rarely experienced.

Eventually his mother pulled him back to the conversation from his simultaneous musings on Nyota, which lab work he could delegate to her, and the latest application he'd received for Advanced Phonology.

"Do you have plans for Thanksgiving, Spock?" Amanda asked; apparently they had returned to their original topic.

"I do not."

"He'll probably be working that night," Nyota smirked. Spock just raised an eyebrow at her teasing, and Amanda nearly giggled.

"I have to go, actually," she said, still smiling at the cadet seated next to him. "Your father is about to wake up." Spock nodded once and Amanda continued, "It was very nice to meet you, Nyota."

The student smiled genuinely. "Likewise."

"I'll speak to you Thursday, sa-fu." Nyota's last glimpse of the woman was with her hand raised in farewell, silhouetted against the orange, rising sun of Vulcan behind her.

XXX

Nyota heard a loud giggle from the corridor outside her dorm room. Rubbing a hand over her temple, she looked up at the door with a grimace. Glancing at the clock, she saw she'd been zoned into her homework for almost an hour and a half; she'd expected Gaila back half an hour ago. Another giggle came louder this time; she hadn't picked up a guy in the middle of the day, had she? The door swung open to admit a laughing Orion and smirking sophomore; Nyota jumped to her feet, quickly gathering her PADD and messenger bag.

"Oh, Ny, I don't want to kick you out," Gaila pouted unconvincingly.

"No, problem, Gai," Nyota said flippantly, already out the door. Turning impetuously, Nyota skipped down to Sarah's door, hoping her friend wasn't occupied.

"Ny!" Sarah squealed when she opened the door. "Why do I feel like I haven't seen you in forever?"

"Because we haven't had a real conversation in ages," Nyota replied as she stepped into the room.

"Sit, sit, sit," Sarah instructed. "I have things to tell you."

The two girls started speaking over each other and laughing; Nyota felt with a rush that she'd missed her loud best friend.

"Where have you been while I neglected you?" Sarah asked.

"With Spock," Nyota admitted. Sarah raised an eyebrow. "I mean, _that_ reminds me of him, the fact that you raised an eyebrow at me."

Sarah giggled; the buoyancy was contagious and Nyota began laughing at herself, releasing a tension she hadn't known she'd been holding. Instinctively scooching herself closer to her friend, Sarah prompted, "Well?"

"I told you I'm using his computer—"

"—Right—"

"—and he got me sensor array lab time."

"Really? But you're so good at it."

"But I want to be active next summer! I need practice if I'm going to make the Enterprise! And I'm getting good at organizing the information—he has me do some of his work—"

"He lets you do his work?" Sarah asked with raised eyebrows. "He must trust you now."

Nyota peeked down at her lap. "Yeah, I guess so. He told me I can be his TA next semester for Advanced Phonology."

"You killed that class," Sarah smiled. Nyota just smirked and shrugged; it was true. "So you're gonna do what Ferrous said? Try to make lieutenant in the spring?"

"Yeah," Nyota replied, her eyebrows high as though she didn't even believe it herself.

"How's your thesis?"

"Good. I'm nearly there, I can see the end of the thing. I've been working on it so much!"

"You look exhausted, Ny," Sarah admitted with a sympathetic nod.

Waving her off, Nyota said, "I'll be fine. But tell me about Benji…"

XXX

The next morning found Nyota in the same position on her bed, with her PADD on her knees. Even though she didn't have class, she'd gotten up to make time for homework because the whole prior evening had been spent in the company of Spock and _Hak-iv t'Verat._ Gaila still lay under her covers even though the sun had been up for hours.

Her Rigelian homework sat open in front of her, but she wasn't actually seeing the words. She was thinking about her work from the evening before; just after Spock had left, she had found one small, elegant scribble, and frowned. The form of the word was eluding her; most of the manuscript was written neatly, but it seemed its scribe had grown tired, and the one word refused to become clear. She understood the rest of the sentence, but couldn't be sure of the griffonage's meaning.

Quite suddenly she stood up and put away her homework. She couldn't concentrate on it; she had to see that word again. Perhaps Spock would be able to read it…

Nyota got halfway across the quad before remembering that Spock didn't have a class so early, and so would not get to campus until about ten, but she decided to stare at the word for a while longer anyways. Smoothly, she slipped up the stairs of the Bio building and keyed in the password without even thinking.

XXX

_Student-professor relations, involving those underage or of age, regardless of transitory teaching status, direct scholarly relationship, and location of alliances, will not be tolerated at Starfleet Academy._

Despite having read the Academy's guidelines at the beginning of his freshman year, Spock recalled this line perfectly. He was sitting on his office floor meditating on the logic of this rule. In general Spock obeyed rules because they were rules; however, if one found a flaw of logic, it would be acceptable to dispute the inconsistency.

Vulcans did not have such academic/social guidelines; as approximately 96.577% of Vulcans were bonded at any one time, such situations rarely occurred. Therefore he was not entirely sure of the basis of the Academy rule. Perhaps it was to avoid what he had heard termed a "conflict of interest;" he'd learned that when humans became emotionally involved in a situation, they could not always remain objective. This would not be a problem for him; he could function as her professor and grade her work without bias. He would not be affected by "favoritism."

Perhaps it was an issue of age, despite the disclaimer about those students who were of age. However, he and Nyota were only approximately three and a half years apart; in psychological terms, they were closer in development because of Vulcans' longer life spans. Maturity levels would not be a problem.

Which brought him to the issue of consent, reminding him of why he was meditating on this subject at all. He did not plan to initiate any action that would lead to a relationship with Cadet Uhura, and would never consider unwanted advances. He was containing the emotions he could not eradicate, and would give no indication to Nyota of his increased…interest in her. Though he had acknowledged this to himself, it would be illogical to display it to her.

However, he had learned to "expect the unexpected" with humans. Situations were resolved more expediently when he prepared for even those possibilities that seemed to him improbable to impossible. Therefore one of his meditative habits was to contemplate all such situations "just in case."

This is how he came to be meditating on the logic of a union with Nyota when she opened the door to his office unexpectedly.

She stepped into a wall of heat and immediately noticed the lights and computer were on; it took a second to locate Spock on the floor. He was seated on a dark blue cloth mat, with his legs folded neatly beneath him, wearing nothing on his feet, which she found slightly unsettling and disorienting for some reason, and with his eyes closed. A gasp escaped her.

Spock heard the sound of the pneumatic door hissing and pulled himself from his meditative state, feeling the pieces of his logic puzzle disperse. Opening his eyes, he prepared to stand; but he saw just Nyota standing in the doorway, so he remained on the floor, slightly muddled. If it was just her, he wouldn't spoil the calm he felt; surely he could return to meditation imminently. Her mouth was halfway open, as she was clearly surprised to find him here; he was off schedule today. His position on the floor provided an intriguing angle from which to see her legs and her chest, and her hair was down today, sweeping both sides of her face and hiding the smooth curve of her ears.

Before Nyota could make herself say anything, she noted Spock's interesting facial expression and emotions. His eyes remained half-lidded, as though he hadn't quite extracted himself from his meditation. She would have sworn his eyes swept up her body, making her feel self conscious about not having changed into her Starfleet uniform before coming; she wore short shorts and an old tshirt with a scoop neck. By the time his eyes met hers, one eyebrow had raised and from him she felt…affection? And…interest, perhaps? She couldn't quite name it.

"I'm—I'm so sorry," she stumbled, taking a step backwards. Immediately she felt his disappointment.

"Do not apologize," he said with a minute shake of his head. "I am not operating according to my regular schedule today."

For once Nyota had no reply; she just bit her lip.

"I presume you came to work?" he asked.

"Yeah, but I can come back—"

"There is no need," Spock said, his voice still and smooth. "If you are quiet, you will not disturb me." His eyes slid closed again.

Uncertainly, Nyota stepped inside; the door hissed again as it closed. She would have asked if he was sure, but was convinced he had already slipped back into complete meditation. However, just before she sat down, he said, "You may decrease the temperature if you are uncomfortable."

She did not, and though she settled into her chair and opened _Ha-kiv t'Verat, _she didn't start working. Instead she kept the chair turned to Spock and watched him.

She'd never seen him so relaxed. His hands rested lightly on his knees, and his shoulders were sloped in tranquility. She saw him in profile, and studied his peaceful features; she'd always thought his natural expression was quite blank, but saw now, in contrast, that there was tension to it.

Spock noted that she spent precisely 2.4 minutes watching him before starting her work.

XXXXX

**A/N** I hope you enjoyed! Either way, please leave a review. They genuinely make my day!


	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer** Please don't sue—I don't own these characters! Thanks to the powers that be for letting us have our fun.

**Chapter Twenty Five**

Nyota stretched and rubbed at her eyes. She sat before a large screen, its glow the only light in the laboratory. Spock's students had left and she'd remained in her seat as the sun sank. She'd finished the work Spock left for her and was now just listening, seeing how quickly she could transcribe the various inconsequential transmissions she picked up.

As she was trying to convince herself to stand up to turn the lights on, she heard soft footsteps from the doorway. Turning, she saw Spock reenter with his hands tucked behind his back.

He remained just inside the doorway to survey her. It was Tuesday evening, the last night before Thanksgiving break started, and he was preparing to return to his apartment; all his papers were graded and the only thing left to attend to was convincing Nyota to go to her dormitory.

She'd removed her black boots and sat in front of the screen with her legs tucked under her, which made her skirt slip halfway up her thighs. Her hair was sleeked back into a long ponytail and she looked back at him with weary eyes.

"You are tired," he said as he stepped forward. She liked how his voice joined, rather than broke, the silence. She just nodded. "You are exceptionally tired," he amended.

Looking at her PADD to check the time, she just shrugged, but a large yawn ruined her argument. "Maybe I'll be done," she suggested, starting to expertly lock the machine for the night.

"That was going to be my suggestion," Spock said.

Pulling on her boots, she asked, "Can we go out to lunch tomorrow?"

"If you wish."

Nyota stood, and found herself much closer to Spock than she had anticipated. Without moving, she said, "I was looking for some new vegan places and found somewhere to try out—"As she spoke, she felt an overwhelming feeling wash over her—that he was pleased and suddenly happy? But it was more, it was that strange emotion sort of like possessiveness, perhaps, that she could not name. She took a small step backward until her butt hit the console. His face was completely expressionless. She wasn't supposed to know how he felt. She closed her eyes. This wasn't okay.

"Spock—Spock, can I talk to you privately?"

They both felt a spike of curiosity/anticipation/confusion. He never understood human impulsiveness.

"Certainly."

She didn't know what he needed to hear or what she wanted to say…Would he get mad at her? She should have told him before…Opening her eyes, she shook her head, "Not now."

"Will lunch suffice as a setting?" he asked, his curiosity growing. He watched as she bit her lip; evidently she was nervous about the proposed conversation. What could she want to say to him?

"Maybe. I don't know." Where did one tell her Vulcan professor she'd been able to feel his emotions all the time she'd known him? "Can we find somewhere after lunch?"

Spock just nodded. She couldn't handle his proximity anymore, and slid away from him to grab her bag from beside his desk. "I'll see you in your office tomorrow at like 1100?"

Once again he nodded; he had expected to walk her back to her dorm, but she disappeared out the door before he could offer.

XXX

Nyota walked briskly across campus the next morning. She was not going to arrive for 1100; she'd thrown in a 'like,' hadn't she? Sarah had needed goodbyes, a bit of homework needed polishing off, and she had spent an inordinate amount of time ransacking her wardrobe. Anyways, here she was, off to eat lunch with Spock and, presumably, tell him about the weird emotion-sensing thing.

She had decided he would be able to stop it. For whatever reason, she had this feeling that Spock had control over whatever this was—it had never happened with anyone else, had it?—and that he would not like it. She had never seen him mad, so she didn't know if it would come to that, or if he would be just as expressionless about it as anything; but she felt quite sure he would put a stop to it. And she felt quite sure she was going to miss it.

These emotions had become so important to her relationship with him. What if she couldn't feel when he was annoyed anymore? Would she become unbearable to him? Would she not be able to understand him anymore? What if they didn't work well together? She would still have to finish her thesis and be his TA next semester…

But she knew she had to tell him. It felt too intrusive, especially now that she felt every nuance of emotion…Suddenly Nyota found herself directly in front of his office door. Throwing back her head and throwing on a smile, she knocked.

He opened the door with curiosity. He did not comment on her tardiness. She was not wearing her Starfleet uniform, as they were on vacation and travelling off campus to eat, and he quickly took in the unfortunate fact that her legs were covered by dark jeans.

Bringing his eyes up to hers again, he said, "You did not tell me the name of the restaurant you wish to try."

Deciding she would straight-up ignore her discomfort, Nyota turned to lead Spock downstairs. "It's called, interestingly, The Golden Pig. I'm not surprised you hadn't found it before."

As they walked, she did not reference what she had to tell him. Though she had seemed a bit tense when she showed up at his office, by the time they got to The Golden Pig, she was smirking and watching him sideways. He'd been illogically pleased when she said she had searched for vegan restaurants. If she wanted to eat with him, vegan options were a necessity; yet he'd experienced a sensation he could only call warmth, although he'd refused to analyze it. He was surprised to find that she'd brought him just a few blocks past his apartment.

Through the topic of Thanksgiving, and how neither of them really celebrated it, and how Nyota thought it was silly that Starfleet had time off for it just because they were located in San Francisco, they arrived at the topic of her childhood. He'd heard inconsequential details, but not the entire narrative.

"I have two siblings," she said as she took a menu from their waitress and slid into her booth. She noticed Spock was the only man she knew who could get himself into a booth with anything resembling dignity. "I can't believe I never told you this before. Surprise me with a light beer," she said to the waitress, who then turned to Spock.

He found it uncomfortable to have this waitress hear their personal conversation, so before Nyota could continue, he said, "Just water, please." She was not quite far enough away before Nyota proceeded.

"One sister and one brother, both older. And both mildly infuriating." She had an intriguing brightness to her eyes as she spoke of her family, Spock noted. "We're really close in age, so we were always really competitive." She shrugged. "Okay, are still really competitive. My sister is already in space, which is infuriating because there was nothing I could do about _time_." She looked up to see if he was interested; he was scanning the menu, but when she paused he looked up and acknowledged her comment with a quirk of his lips, so she plunged on. "And my brother is still in school to be a doctor. So the word's out on whether I beat him."

Spock put down his menu and she could feel his amusement. "It is illogical to debate who has 'won' between siblings based on their professions."

"Do you have siblings, Spock?" she asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

His head dipped, and she realized that, strangely, this usually neutral topic might be uncomfortable for him. "I have a half brother; however, I have not communicated with him in…some time."

Nyota shifted in her seat, studying him. "Half brother?" she prompted gently, not knowing what he would, or would not, want her to ask about him.

"Through my father," he said, looking up at her again. "He is full Vulcan," he said, although Nyota swore she heard something in his tone that made her think a human might have pronounced "full Vulcan" with a strain of sarcasm.

Or was that just her interpretation of the uneasiness she could feel from him? She was distracted from her intense curiosity by the thought, and couldn't formulate a new question before the waitress came back with their drinks.

Once they had ordered and Nyota began sipping her beer (and the waitress had walked sufficiently far away), Spock commented with a minutely raised eyebrow, "I thought humans generally waited until five o'clock to indulge in alcoholic beverages."

Putting her drink down firmly, Nyota raised an eyebrow, but he could see the tease in her. With mock outrage (given away by the grin spreading across her features), she said, "It is perfectly acceptable for me to drink a beer with lunch."

Actually, it was a calculated move. She was hoping she might get the slightest bit tipsy, which she knew would loosen her tongue, and theoretically make it easier for her to talk to him.

Spock observed, as they ate, that it did make her speak a little more freely. She apparently was what some might call a "lightweight." He watched with amusement as she started gesticulating more enthusiastically.

As she came to the end of her salad, however, she grew quieter. When the waitress came with the bill, they split it, and then she looked at him with an expression he had yet to catalogue.

"So," she said. He clearly had no response to this. "I need to tell you something."

He raised an eyebrow neutrally.

Nyota glanced around at the restaurant, which had filled up since they'd arrived. "Let's go," she said, standing suddenly.

Spock let her lead him outside into the brisk late fall air, where she stopped and turned to him again. "Do you know anywhere quiet around here? And private?"

Weighing his options, he hesitated for just a moment before replying evenly, "My apartment is the closest location where I could guarantee privacy."

Nyota's stomach flipped. _His apartment_. Did he seriously just offer to bring her to his apartment? She wasn't quite sure this was the best place to tell him—she should probably pick somewhere more neutral, somewhere she would be less emotionally…confused—but her morbid curiosity won out. She nodded, "Okay."

The walk to his building was a blur of planned sentences, internal fighting, and staring at her feet. All too soon he was unlocking his door and waving her in front of him.

His apartment was dressed spartanly, and everything was white or a shade of grey. She walked directly into the main living space, which consisted of one angular couch on the opposite wall, an empty coffee table, and half empty bookshelves. To her left was a counter which separated her from the kitchenette; further in sat a table with two plain chairs. Nothing was left out except a teapot on the stove and a PADD on the table. Straight ahead was a single door; she presumed this led to his bedroom.

It was surprisingly unrevealing. She should have expected it, she supposed, but somehow she'd imagined walking into her professor's apartment would feel a lot more personal.

"_I would appreciate if you would remove your shoes,_" he said in Vulcan, as though being at home made him slip into his own tongue, as he took off his own and walked past her to enter the kitchenette. She obediently stepped out of her flats, pausing for a moment to look at them next to Spock's shoes, and then followed him quietly. "_Would you like tea?_" he asked.

"_Sure. Thank you," _she said, feeling awkward just standing in his kitchen.

Spock moved mechanically, ignoring the thought that the last time anyone had visited his apartment was when he had brought a woman home for one night… "_You may select what you would like from the last cabinet," _he informed her.

Glad for something to do, she started rummaging through the boxes. Well, not quite rummaging, as everything was precisely orderly, and she didn't dare move anything out of place without putting it back perfectly. "_Do you have any Irish breakfast?" _she asked.

He turned to look at her, but she didn't notice. "_I believe there may be some in the back. I am not fond of it…but my mother is."_

Nyota pulled out a bag triumphantly just as the water began boiling. Spock poured hers into a plain white mug and she cradled it between her hands as he poured his own.

"_Please sit,"_ he said politely with a sweep of his fingers. Instead of sitting in a dining room chair as he'd expected, Nyota moved toward the couch and settled into the corner, where he usually sat. Curling her legs up under her so her toes peeked out (he noticed her toenails were painted bright red), she hugged her tea closer. He sat at the other end of the couch.

She noticed he seemed quite tense, for being on his own couch. But he did feel mainly content, if slightly curious. She felt a stab at knowing that would be going away soon. She twisted towards him.

"_What did you wish to discuss?" _he asked.

Stalling she said, "Wait, no, you didn't finish telling me about what happened on Delta Omega 7!"

With half quirked lips at what he recognized as an evasion strategy, Spock obligingly continued the narrative he'd started at lunch.

Pulled into his story from his time on the Farragut, Nyota ended up forgetting herself and scooching closer to him. "So you basically saved everyone?"

"I would not categorize the action as selflessly as you seem to be, but I suppose if you wish to be technical, had I not been there, the outcome may have been less fortunate."

Nyota couldn't help but laugh softly at his modesty, and unconsciously, again, her hand reached out to brush his sleeve. As he looked down at where her fingers had touched his shirt, she felt a funny kind of…longing. No.

"Okay, no, I have to tell you."

Spock looked up at her and she was aware that his back straightened infinitesimally. She started to fidget. "Well, it's something sort of personal—I should have told you a long time ago, really, but it never came up and—I feel weird telling you, but it's weirder how—" She cut herself off, finally, feeling his peaking curiosity. Looking up from the nearly emptied mug of tea, she saw his raised eyebrow and just spit it out, closing her eyes. "I can feel your emotions. I've been able to since my first class."

She winced; sharp confusion washed through her. "Feel…my emotions?" he echoed slowly. She'd never heard him so unsure of himself. And at her nod, swift comprehension, a deeper embarrassment than she had ever experienced in her life, anger, just as she'd dreaded—and then it all cut off.

Nervously, she looked over at him, still reeling from what she'd felt from him.

Spock blinked and stood. As soon as she said it, he felt the openness of his mind. He had allowed her access—she could feel his emotions—as though they had a bond—Embarrassment, as he hadn't experienced since childhood, shot through him. He wanted the moment to vanish, he wanted to control time—he wished many illogical things within the span of 2.3 seconds. How had he allowed such a lapse in control? He grew intensely furious with himself—he had failed, utterly. Determinedly, he snapped his mind closed and attempted to control himself.

He was pacing. She'd never seen him agitated, never mind pacing. As he turned, she saw his eyes flash with anger, and she drew into the couch as though it would swallow her. She wanted to be home, she wished she hadn't said anything, she wished this strange connection had never happened at all—was it her fault? Had she done anything? But now she didn't need to feel his emotions; she could observe, quite plainly, that he was distressed, and she couldn't forget that humiliation and fury…

And then he stopped pacing and faced her. She couldn't meet his eyes, which seemed to be blazing. He couldn't control the whirlwind of his thoughts and emotions; he needed to regain himself. She could not be here. He couldn't stand to be in her presence, now that he knew she was totally aware of such a complete failure of control. Trying to manage his voice, he said quietly, "_Leave."_

Nyota's eyes widened suddenly, and she was biting her lip. Quickly, she stood and set down her mug too hard and scuttled to the door, which _whooshed_ open.

Outside stood Amanda Grayson and an older Vulcan, preparing to ring the chime.

**A/N** Oof, I've been writing toward that for a long time. And now we've been set back, my friends…They were doing so well! But first, to uncomfortable adventures with family…

Thanks to all who have reviewed thus far. I really appreciate it! They'll help me get through these last stresses of the school year…


	26. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer **No one here is mine.

**Chapter Twenty Six**

Nyota swore she could feel her brain misfire. It was the woman from the computer; Spock's _mother_ stood before her, with a Vulcan she could only presume to be his father.

Struggling to withhold angry, overwhelmed tears, she stuttered "I'm—I mean—_I'm sorry,_" before scurrying past the two figures to flee down the stairs.

Instead of watching her go, Sarek looked in at his tense son and said, "_You miscalculated, Amanda."_

Spock saw his parents in the doorway and came quite close to wincing; not only his mother stood before him, but his father. Amanda looked shocked, and though his father only appeared mildly stern, Spock knew that within he was already disapproving.

"Mother_…Sa-mekh…Please come in."_

Amanda began shaking her head, but Spock was watching his father. His hair was greyer, and his face more lined, but his features still held the same stern set, and he stood with his hands tucked behind his back. As Spock tried to cage his uncontrollable thoughts enough to function in sight of his father, his mother placed a hand on her husband's wide chest. "No. Sarek, we're going. I'm sorry, Spock."

But Sarek seemed to be paying her no mind; he had stepped over the threshold of Spock's apartment. Amanda stood in front of him and tried to push him backwards; except for the potent tension between the two men, the image would have been comical, as she stood with two hands on his chest and shoved, producing no effect.

"Spock," his father said simply. It had been years—in his mental turmoil Spock could not calculate the exact amount of time—since he'd heard his name pronounced with the traditional longer 'o' sound; not even Nyota or his mother pronounced it in Vulcan. He bowed his head in respect. "_Who was that girl?"_ his father asked.

As Spock was formulating his response, Amanda said quickly, "She's one of his students. I've spoken with her…"

But Sarek was holding up his palm to his son, requesting a mental explanation. Spock kept his hands behind his back, where they had seemingly gravitated without orders.

Spock looked down at his father's outstretched hand. He could not allow his father to see this failing when he had not yet processed it himself. _"Please, sa-mekh. I must meditate first." _Even as he tried to understand his parents' unexpected presence, half of his mind was still grappling with the overwhelming emotions of his discovery…

"We'll come back tomorrow," Amanda insisted. She continued quietly, though of course Spock heard clearly, "You promised to do what I asked, _k'diwa._"

Sarek lowered his hand and turned around to walk out of the apartment with deliberate steps. With a sigh of relief, Amanda followed him, pausing, before the door closed, to say, "I am sorry, sa-fu."

"Lights, dim," Spock said quietly before folding himself onto the floor and closing his eyes.

XXX

Roughly shoving away his parents' visit for later, Spock started uncomfortably but determinedly with his lapse of control with Nyota. For a time he could push away his emotion to deduce facts.

No one had previously told him they were aware of his emotions; this information gave him 98% certainty that this only affected his relationship with Nyota. He assumed most humans would remark upon the fact that a Vulcan really did have emotion. Perhaps he would ask his mother's opinion. If he took this as a given, along with the assumption that the connection only arose from his own mental capacity and not hers, then he merely had to discover the difference between his relationship with Nyota as compared to his relationships with other humans.

This, of course, raised a compelling topic that Spock had been ignoring for some time. Upon inspection, he found that he spent more time in Nyota's company than any other one person in his life, and he had to acknowledge that he had developed a certain…concern for her well-being as they spent more time together. However, she had claimed the phenomenon had lasted as long as he'd known her, which included their early days as mere student and professor (he ignored what that phrase implied about what they were now), which he could not puzzle out. They had had no extraordinary relationship during the commencement of their acquaintance. Though he pondered the question for another 6.9 minutes, he frustratingly found no answer.

With no determined cause, he could have no solution; this incensed him further. His fists clenched and he fought with himself, finding himself stuck in his frustration cycle once again. But he could not ignore his emotions for any prolonged amount of time if he wished to purge them away.

Humiliation: Spock felt a certain kind of familiarity as it bubbled in his stomach. That he had learned to quiet to a whisper (though never to silence). His anger—at himself, at his failure, his lack of control or comprehension—beat against his veins as his half-human blood pulsed through him 1.2 times faster than normal.

He remained on the floor for another 2.5 hours.

XXX

"Mother."

Spock's face, completely calm and mannered, appeared on Amanda's vid screen, creating the only light in the small hotel room. Apparently he'd gotten her hastily recorded message to speak to her as soon as he could, no matter what time it was.

"Did I wake you?"

Speaking quietly, she replied, "No, sa-fu. But your father is meditating." Spock just waited for her to continue. "I am sorry about the timing, Spock. But will you see me tomorrow?" With a glance behind her, she added, "Just the two of us, at first. So I can explain myself."

"It would please me to see you," Spock nodded softly.

"Alright," Amanda agreed with an internal sigh of relief. "I'll see you tomorrow at ten, at your apartment?"

Spock just nodded again, bid her a good night, and clicked off his screen.

XXX

"The Irish breakfast is out," Amanda commented.

Spock stood, again, at his stove waiting for water to boil, and Amanda was searching through his cabinets. At his lack of response, Amanda turned around to look at him. "Do you like it now?"

"I do not."

"Why is it out?"

"Cadet Uhura selected it when she was here yesterday."

Amanda bit her tongue. His tone was neutral, so she wasn't sure just what had happened the day before. She'd been surprised he needed nearly three hours to meditate it away. Worse timing than she'd originally thought, perhaps.

Instead of pushing the topic, she asked, "What would you like?"

"Green tea, please."

Once she'd ensconced herself in the couch with her mug of tea, she started, "I am sorry my timing was less than optimal."

Spock noted that she had seated herself quite similarly to Nyota in the corner of his couch. As he sat, he acknowledged her with a dip of his head, and she continued. "You've never liked surprises before, so I have no idea why I decided to try it now. I don't regret coming, or bringing your father…but I should have told you we were going to visit. Can you forgive me?"

"There is nothing to forgive, Mother," Spock said. "I know it was not your intention to make me uncomfortable."

"I had originally planned to come at Christmas…but I couldn't wait that long," she smiled softly. "How have you been?"

"Satisfactorily busy," he replied, and began to tell her of his work.

"How is Cadet Uhura's thesis coming?" she asked innocently.

"I believe she is satisfied with the speed of her translation," he said, with no trace of uneasiness. But suddenly he wouldn't meet her eye, so Amanda didn't say anything. Patiently, she sipped at her tea.

Finally, just as she'd hoped, Spock's dark eyes, so like his father's, came up to meet hers with that intensity he'd had since childhood; it was the look she got before he asked something important or personal or not okay to ask of a Vulcan. She was not disappointed.

"You were aware of our contention yesterday," he stated. She just nodded. She knew what her son's temper looked like.

Spock paused. He did not relish telling his mother what Nyota had told him; however, the night before he had concluded it was logical to seek her counsel. She was the only human woman he knew who was privy to a Vulcan's emotions.

"She had just told me she is able to feel my emotions." Spock watched carefully as his mother's face displayed her shock; so she had never experienced this.

"Without touch?" his mother clarified.

"Yes."

"When did it start?"

"She said she has been able to since we met. I assume she is the only person with whom this effect has occurred," he said, his voice low.

"If nobody else has said anything, then you're probably right," Amanda agreed, frowning down at her tea, presumably thinking. "Not even since you were unbonded?"

Spock tilted his head. He had not considered the potential effects—he was surprised he hadn't thought of it—

"No," he replied simply, but his thoughts came at him in a rush. If his unbonded status was a cause, why had this not happened earlier? The question of _why her_ still applied; however, it could explain his lack of mental control. As a child he'd heard stories about illogical unbonded Vulcans, but had assumed, upon his release, that they were merely exaggerations.

"You know what I'm going to say," his mother said suddenly; Spock found that she was watching him intently.

"Indeed I do not, as I am not in contact with your skin."

"Speak with your father, Spock. Perhaps my timing was not as inopportune as I thought." Giving him a calculating look, she admitted, "I brought him here for you two to make up, sa-fu. I do not like two of the most important men in my life not communicating." Dropping her voice as though she was speaking sacrilege, she said, "I think your father is just being _illogical_ quite frankly. Please just humor me and show him your work, how successful you've been." She reached out and placed a hand on Spock's knee. "And speak to him about Nyota. He was unbonded for a while too, remember."

Spock had been aware of this fact, naturally. His father had had two wives, necessitating some period of being unbonded between the marriages. However, never before had he considered doing something so extreme as _asking him about it._

Slowly, he nodded.

"Good," Amanda said firmly before standing up. "Then I would like to go out to lunch, please."

XXXXX

**A/N **Sorry for leaving you so long at such a horrid spot! I'm hoping I'll be able to update a little more frequently now =]

Amanda has become the third voice of this story; I've found that whenever she's in the scene I can't help but tell it from her POV. She has such interesting perspective on Spock that I can't resist! And I think she's figured out how to say what she wants in a house full of Vulcan men =D

Getting reviews is the only way I know anyone wants me to keep going…(besides me, hehe…)


	27. Chapter 27

**Disclaimer **Thanks to those who actually own these characters for leaving us in peace. The only thing that's mine is the story line, and even that's piggybacked!

**Chapter Twenty Seven**

Nyota was picking at her Thanksgiving Day meal. Her plate was piled with replicated turkey (nobody had enough actual turkeys to feed all of Star Fleet), mashed potatoes and gravy, stuffing that reminded her of her mother (though quite inferior), and cranberry sauce, and her friends still on campus were ranged around her; but she couldn't keep her thoughts on their chatter. The loud volume of the mess hall actually helped her concentrate, because she could drown it to a general roar.

Her thoughts kept returning to Spock's quiet but apparently irate, "_Leave."_ His flat expression had, she was sure, concealed a fury directed at her that meant he wouldn't want to see her or speak to her or work with her again. And she had no idea what to do about it.

And of course those angry tears had pooled just as she opened the doors to see _his parents_. She hated the habit intensely, but had never been able to control it, not since she was little. When she was truly upset, she could never restrain tears, even if there was no sadness involved.

And what must Amanda think of her? In the back of her mind, she'd come to kind of admire the woman, but now, what must she think of her…? Nyota wondered if Spock had come up with an adequate excuse for her presence in his apartment.

Nyota sighed over her food. Perhaps she should do some work in the afternoon, to keep her mind off of…everything. Immediately dismissing the idea of going to Spock's office, she decided she would sneak into the sensor array lab. Surely Spock wouldn't have any reason to stop in there if he was visiting with his parents.

XXX

"Oh, you two go," Amanda urged as she stepped over to a bench set outside the Physics building.

Spock and his father looked at her, but neither said anything. Spock was grateful for the sun, that his parents might both be marginally more comfortable, though it was still slightly humid. His mother looked up at them.

"Spock, I know you're just going to babble some physics that I don't understand but that your father will find utterly fascinating. I'd rather sit out in the sun," she insisted, waving them off. After a long shared glance with his wife, Sarek nodded obligingly and turned to enter the building, Spock at his heels.

Sarek had not spoken much through the morning as Spock led his parents on a tour of campus. He had shown them his office, some of the more interesting equipment, one of his classrooms. He did not know what his father was thinking as he walked with perfect Vulcan stoicism through Star Fleet.

"_I teach two classes here and have sensor array lab duties," _Spock explained as he led his father up two flights of stairs.

"_Your teaching does not concentrate on Biology," _his father noted.

"_Correct,"_ Spock agreed. "_Though biology constituted my primary work on the _Farragut, _many of my skills have been utilized as a professor."_

Sarek did not respond.

As Spock keyed in the passkey to the lab, he explained, "_The sensor array lab is as well equipped as the one at the Vulcan Science Academy—"_

He stopped as soon as he passed over the threshold. Nyota sat in a chair by the large screen, which twinkled with the simulated map of stars, with a hand flying up to her headphones as she swiveled to gawk at him.

Keeping his face neutral, he nodded, "Cadet Uhura."

Nyota sprang to her feet. Why, why was he in the sensor array lab? And without Amanda to diffuse the tension, either. Despite her raised chin, she replied nervously, "Professor. Ambassador."

"_This is the student who was at your apartment,"_ his father said unnecessarily, and fairly rudely, Nyota thought, whether she spoke Vulcan or not.

"_She speaks Vulcan quite well,"_ Spock replied simply, making Nyota restrain a smile at the compliment.

"_Good afternoon," _Sarek greeted her.

"_Good afternoon,_" she replied. Being careful with her honorifics, she added, "_I hope you have…been impressed with the Academy's facilities."_ With a slight glance at Spock, she noted his minute nod of approval at the floor.

"_They are not as advanced as those at the Vulcan Science Academy," _he replied simply. "_You work the sensor array lab?"_

"_Only sometimes," _she responded, trying to conceal her consternation at his answer and stepping back as the Vulcan walked forward to examine the array.

He glanced over the display panel and her working transcript, then turned back to her. "_Do you find the facilities and education adequate, cadet?"_

She couldn't help the raising of her eyebrows. He thought Star Fleet inferior to the VSA, did he? She put several facts together quickly—she'd read that Spock had been accepted to the VSA and turned it down; she knew he felt uneasy whenever the subject of his father came up; now she saw that he disapproved of Star Fleet. She pursed her lips.

Her mind flitted through what she would say to a human—with your son as a teacher, of course—when I'm not knee deep in work, sure—but then she actually considered the question. "_My courses are challenging, I have never lacked resources I could not supplement in some way, and I believe I will be prepared for starship service," _she said seriously. Spock's father peered at her for a long moment with Spock's dark eyes, then nodded once. Feeling suddenly bold (and figuring, in the back of her mind, that Spock couldn't be any angrier at her than he was already), she added, "_I believe officers here receive an education at least equal to that offered at the Vulcan Science Academy. Sir."_

He didn't react, and she flushed but held her ground as he continued to gaze at her. Then he turned around. "_I wish to see the scanning tunneling microscopes,"_ he said.

Spock looked at Nyota for a long moment before leaving, and she felt her first pang of wishing she knew what he was feeling.

XXX

"_She is bold,"_ Sarek commented as they entered the lab of networked microscopes. Spock didn't answer. He'd been surprised at Nyota's comment; he was approximately 63% sure she had deduced his situation with his father and its cause, and felt simultaneously impressed and chagrined. "_She has little information on which to base her assessment."_

Despite the illogic of her statement, Spock had felt pleasure at it.

Standing up from his inspection, Sarek turned to look at his son. "_You have shown me your place of work, sa-fu, but not your work."_ Stepping forward, he held up his hand again.

The light streamed in from the windows, illuminating the particles of dust in the air. Spock considered his father's hand, more lined than when he had last contacted his father's mind. He ordered his thoughts carefully; when young, he had imagined it as setting up props in front of a theater curtain for viewing, and making sure everything else was backstage. He held out his hand.

His father drew in a long breath as they touched; at their contact, Sarek let him feel that it was with contentment before banishing the emotion. His father showed him little beyond his resistance to coming and his curiosity about Spock's work; not wanting to explain so many years of his life, Spock asked an unarticulated, "_May I?" _Sarek consented, and Spock raised his fingers to his father's psi points and began a rapid confluence of images and thoughts from his time as a student, aboard the _Farragut,_ and as a teacher. He had a long period of time to cover, and father and son stood together for 4.3 minutes, their breathing beginning to synchronize.

As he reached the present, Spock felt his father gently begin to pull away; but he asked him to remain for another moment. He showed him, carefully, the moment Nyota had told him her secret, but took his fingers away before his emotions rushed back to him. He opened his eyes.

Sarek looked at him levelly, betraying nothing. Spock had conveyed all his information, so his father had no questions. The Vulcan walked to the windows to view the quad, where Amanda sat below.

"_Mother believes it could be because I am unbonded," _Spock added, wanting to reach out to contact his father's skin again, yet dreading his disapproval.

After a long moment, Sarek began, "_My uncle was unbonded for several years after his first bondmate died. During this interim he met my aunt; I learned some time later that she felt his mind without touch when they first met."_ Sarek turned around. "_As a Vulcan she recognized this feeling. The cadet must not have spoken earlier because she was unaware of the implications_."

Spock could not resist a rush of gratitude toward his father. With this story, he knew his father would assist him.

"_Of what implications do you speak, sa-mekh?" _Spock asked.

"_I do not know, sa-fu. But you must control your thoughts from her."_

XXX

Amanda felt her husband behind her before she turned. Out of respect, she had kept out of the conversation, but when her two men stopped before her, mirroring each other with hands caught behind their backs, she nudged curiously. Sarek gently let her see his approval of their son, and an impression of their conversation. He was pleased by her overflowing happiness.

"It seems we can go out for a happy Thanksgiving dinner, then?" she asked, standing and stretching in the sun. She caught Sarek's unguarded appreciation for her figure in the sunlight and smiled softly at him. He would take advantage of her contentment later, she felt sure. He merely raised an eyebrow subtly in response to the thought.

Unaware of his parents' interaction, Spock replied to his mother, "_To the contrary." _When she sank in disappointment and perplexity, he quirked his lips. "_We discussed eating at my apartment instead, if you will allow us to cook._"

Amanda's face drew into a wide grin. "Are you trying to tell me you've developed a sense of humor, sa-fu?" she chuckled. "That would be the most fabulous Thanksgiving I've had in years, please and thank you."

Despite their quiet protests, Amanda linked her arms with both of theirs and pulled them away to San Francisco for some last minute grocery shopping.

XXX

"And I am thankful for all of you, of course," Ling finished, shrugging.

Everyone "awed," and Jon clapped his hands together happily. Toby and Andrew sat on either side of him on the floor of the common space of their dorm. Turning to the next person in the small circle, he said, "Alright, Ny, your turn!"

He had called all of them together for an actual Thanks-giving after dinner, insisting that he would not give up his tradition just because he couldn't go home for the holiday.

"Wait," Nyota said, "first I have to read Sarah's. She said she couldn't vid because of dinner or something, but she sent her list." Dramatically pulling out a crisp piece of paper, she read, "Mory is thankful for: getting into StarFleet. Having her brother home safe. He was off planet for like two years," Nyota added in an aside. Laughing as she read the last part, Nyota finished, "And she's thankful we all forgive her her selfishness!" Gaila giggled.

"Now you," Jon prompted.

Nyota set down the paper and thought. "I am thankful for my mother and father, and brother, and sister. I'm thankful for my translation almost being done!" She chuckled with everyone else. "And mostly for you guys," she finished. "This crazy hard education wouldn't be anything without you."

Again, the whole circle "awed," and then Gaila began. But Nyota's mind was still on her own list. She was thinking how one other person was on it, for his guidance and teaching and maybe even friendship?

Not that it meant she was going to seek him out any sooner. She planned to stay well away for as long as possible.

XXXXX

**A/N **All together now: awwww. I know, mushiest chapter ever…too much? I couldn't help it!

I really love reviews!


	28. Chapter 28

**Disclaimer **I do not profit. I'm just here to have some fun

**Chapter Twenty Eight**

_Spock,_

_I have been selected to review your candidates for Teaching Assistant for Advanced Phonology next semester. Please alert me when you plan to begin your interview process._

_Sincerely,_

_Professor Alice Cormier_

_P.S. Are you coming out to eat with me and Ferrous tonight? We wanted a last bang before class starts again tomorrow._

XXX

"Can you believe they picked her?" Ferrous chuckled as soon as Spock met them at O'Malley's. The two professors sat across from each other at a booth, and Spock joined Ferrous' side of the table. He consented to eating at O'Malley's with them despite the noise level several decibels above optimal; their vegetarian options, once discovered, were quite good.

"I've done this for some people before," Prof Cormier shrugged, a beer glass cradled in her hands on the table before her.

"But he must assume you don't know each other," Ferrous insisted. "That man has no idea what happens on his campus."

"He noticed when you made half your final 'draw a picture of your favorite alien,'" Prof Cormier smirked.

Ferrous laughed. "True enough! He wasn't too happy about that one."

"So Spock, how many applicants do you have?" Prof Cormier asked, turning to the half Vulcan.

"Nine," he replied simply.

She groaned. "That'll take us a while. You haven't started interviews yet? Not even with Thanksgiving break?"

"I was otherwise occupied."

"What were you doing that night that you couldn't come out to dinner with us?" Ferrous asked curiously. "I wanted to talk to you about an article I found on the diplomatic effect of the universal translator's programming errors."

"My parents arrived unexpectedly," Spock admitted as he motioned over the waiter. As he quietly asked for a beer, Alice and Ferrous shared a surprised look.

"Are they still here? Do you mean I might get to glimpse Professor Spock's mother and father?" Ferrous asked.

"I saw them to the transport station this afternoon," Spock said, and Ferrous' face fell.

"That would have been something."

"I do not understand that Standard idiom. Everything, by definition, is 'something,'" Spock replied with a tilted head. His companions laughed.

"And how would the universal translator deal with this; that's the real question!" Ferrous said before launching them into a conversation about his article.

XXX

Nyota slipped into Advanced Subspace covertly, trying to ignore the fact that she couldn't automatically tell how his morning was going. Without his usual glance at her, he stood to continue his lecture on advanced array emergency repairs; his expression was blank, and she wondered for the hundredth time how his visit with his parents had gone. Her family had always been so close and interwoven that she couldn't really imagine having a long feud with anyone…she was distracted from his lecture by wishing she could ask him about it. They had never talked enough about the tension of an interracial house…not that she knew she could get him to discuss it. She hoped it wasn't too late, anyway.

After class finished, she left with Jon, Ling, and Sarah, figuring she could go back to Spock's office later, when he had another class, to work.

XXX

For the first time since their ninth class, Nyota did not stay back to walk to his office with him. Spock watched her walk out; evidently she had another commitment today. He started across campus alone pensively.

In his office he clicked over to his spreadsheets of interviewee information. None had come close to checking as many 'positive' boxes as Nyota; he sighed at the impracticality of Lee's orders. Why should he speak with people he already knew were not as technically qualified as his original choice? Quickly, he composed a message to send to all of them:

_Candidates:_

_I am available for interviews from 1300 to 1500 on Thursday. I have attached a schedule of when each of you should arrive. Do not be tardy._

_Lt. Commander Spock_

He copied Prof Cormier and sent it out before folding himself on the floor for a short meditation.

XXX

"Spock," Prof Cormier greeted him from his vid screen. The call had shortened his meditation by approximately 13 minutes, but her slightly creased brow seemed to indicate it was for an important issue. He nodded to her.

"I got your email," she said, using the tone generally used when a human had not adequately planned the initiation of a conversation.

As he was expected to, he prompted, "Yes?"

"I think maybe it was a little…peremptory."

'Peremptory,' his brain supplied, 'meaning positive or assertive in speech; leaving no room for refusal.' If the email had been construed as containing tone, he agreed that peremptory would accurately describe it.

"I do expect all candidates to accept my interview terms," Spock said, not certain why Prof Cormier had contacted him.

"But what if they can't show up then? You want to have a working relationship with these kids…"

"If they cannot appear when I need them, they forfeit their candidacy. I cannot spend undue time on this matter."

Prof Cormier looked…exasperated? He compared it to when he had asked his mother what she considered too many questions…

"I just think that's unreasonable. We have enough time to do this. You didn't even ask me if I could be there then. And what does that give them, less than 15 minutes each?"

"I knew you do not have class or another commitment on Thursday from 1300 to 1500; each candidate has 13 and 1/3 minutes to speak with me."

Prof Cormier raised her eyebrows at him with skepticism. "I would appreciate a more collaborative effort with this, and I do not think that is enough time for each interview."

"We do not have much information to exchange, as I already received their applications. I do not fully understand the necessity of this measure," Spock admitted.

"It's so you can get to know them. See who you'd work best with, who's the best for the job," the professor explained. Spock did not respond. He did not understand how an interview would accomplish this more thoroughly than their applications.

Prof Cormier sighed. "You know what? Okay. Do it your way. These kids should know what they're in for, I guess." Spock guessed the last remark was more to herself than to him based on the drop in her volume, and so did not respond to it.

"Then you will be in my office from 1300 to 1500 on Thursday?"

She looked at him for a long moment, but then nodded. "Yes, Spock, I'll be there."

"Thank you, Professor," Spock said before clicking off his vid screen.

XXX

"Ugh, I want to go work on my translation!" Nyota sighed as she rubbed at her temple.

"Then go. You don't have class for a couple hours," Gaila replied dismissively from behind her PADD. When Nyota didn't answer, she looked up at her roommate. "What's stopping you?"

Nyota bit her lip. She hadn't told anyone about her conversation with Spock. "Spock doesn't have class for a couple of hours, either," she admitted in a mumble.

"And…?"

"So he'll be in his office right now," Nyota finished.

The Orion surveyed her. "What, did you two have some sort of lover's tiff?"

"No!" Nyota insisted; then her expression softened and she frowned. "But I told him about the emotion thing."

"You what?" came Sarah's voice from the doorway. They'd left the door open as they studied, and Sarah stood outside with several books in her hands to join them. When she heard Nyota's words, she rushed in to hop onto Ny's bed with her.

"Mory," Nyota groaned, "you weren't supposed to hear."

"You think you're keeping this story from me?" Sarah asked, eyebrows raised. "I don't think so. Spill. Is this why you didn't go back to his office this afternoon?"

"Yes," Nyota answered with her two friends' expectant gazes on her. "It was too weird, I had to tell him!"

"It always was weird," Sarah pointed out.

"Yeah, but it was just too much all of a sudden. I could feel everything."

Gaila looked at her curiously. "Was there something in particular you could feel that made you uncomfortable, perhaps?" she suggested innocently.

"Of course not," Nyota replied; but she couldn't keep away the slight flush of her cheeks and the memory of his indefinable longing as she sat on his couch.

"So when did you tell him?" Sarah urged.

"Wednesday afternoon."

Sarah narrowed her eyes. "Where?"

Nyota blushed again, but tilted up her chin. "His apartment."

Gaila squealed. "You did not!"

"Hush!" Nyota insisted.

"Did anything…?" Sarah trailed off with a funny expression on her face, as though she wanted to laugh but was also a little bemused.

"No," Gaila shook her head sadly. "I would have known."

Nyota backed her up. "Not even close, Mory. He was furious at me."

"Okay, I find that hard to believe."

"No seriously. He kicked me out." Pausing for dramatic effect, Nyota added, "_And then his parents showed up."_

"Oh, God," Sarah said, eyes widening.

"I saw them taking a tour Thursday afternoon," Gaila nodded. "So you met them?"

"Sort of," Nyota said with a grimace. "They saw me as I was fleeing the scene. And then I saw him and his dad Thursday afternoon in the sensor array lab."

"What did Spock do?" Sarah asked.

Nyota shrugged. "He was totally civil. But I couldn't feel anything from him, so I have no idea what he was thinking, which was weird. And then I may or may not have increased the tension of his feud with his father."

"Nyota, what have you done?"

"I know! And I still have to be his TA next semester!"

"And finish your translation on his computer," Gaila reminded her. Nyota started chewing her lip in frustration again.

"I think you should just pretend nothing happened," Sarah shrugged.

"Are you serious, Mory?"

"That's what he's going to do, isn't it?" she pointed out.

"I have no idea what he's going to do!" Nyota insisted.

"That's so not true," Sarah scoffed. "I know you know people, and I know you get him. It's weird, but true. You know what he'll probably do."

"Well…I _think_ he'll just act like nothing happened. I mean, he doesn't like people to know what he's feeling. But that's what changes things. He knows that I did know. He's gonna feel so uncomfortable around me."

"But he won't do anything about it besides feel uncomfortable, right?" Gaila said.

"…Maybe," Nyota agreed.

"You're going to feel uncomfortable, but what else can you do?" Sarah shrugged again. "Just leave it alone."

"I can't! You know I can't just let things go," Nyota said.

"But you have to work with him. You have to," Sarah insisted.

XXX

Nyota could only avoid her physics professor for so long; late Wednesday afternoon they finally met again.

Frustrated, Nyota was curled into her chair before the desktop rereading the same sentence of _Ha-kiv t'Verat_ over and over again. She was startled out of her work by the door opening to reveal Spock.

Shifting in her chair, she said, "I thought you had meetings this afternoon."

Spock walked around the desk and set down his PADD. "My department meeting was shorter than average today," he answered.

Nyota started to gather her things. She couldn't work in the same room with him right now. Before she could stand, he began to speak. "I infer from your aversion to seeing me that you are upset; please do not let me interrupt your work. I will complete my duties elsewhere."

Swiveling her chair, Nyota looked up at him in disbelief. "You think I'm upset with you?"

"Your behavior suggests this and it is an acceptable response to my unacceptable actions," he said without inflection, his eyes trained above her head.

For some reason Nyota found herself angry at him. She stood up. "That's ridiculous," she said dismissively.

He cocked an eyebrow.

"Well, it is!" she insisted. "Why would I be angry with you when you so clearly didn't do it on purpose?"

"It was a breach in etiquette and I wish to apologize," Spock said quietly.

"I'm the one who should apologize!" Nyota insisted, glad they were having this uncomfortable conversation. No matter what her friends said, she preferred acknowledged awkwardness to silent awkwardness. "I should have told you so much earlier. I thought you were upset with me."

"Of course not," Spock said, a small frown marring his brow. "This incident was my fault, Nyota."

"Don't try to blame yourself for this," Nyota shook her head at him. "I'm not upset with you."

Spock was watching her carefully, and he tilted his head. "Are you becoming upset now?" he asked.

Nyota took a deep breath. "I probably seem to be getting upset now," she started. "But I am not mad at you for the weird emotion thing—"

"—temporary empathetic link—"

"—and right now I'm just frazzled because I'm confused." She paused to wait for his slight nod. He was still confused, she was sure. "So I'm not upset with you…and you're not upset with me. Right?"

"Correct," Spock said, and something about the relaxing of his shoulders told Nyota he was relieved. "I suggest we function without reference to this."

Although she doubted that would truly happen, Nyota nodded and sat back down. "Okay," she said. "Then can you help me with this sentence here? I can't figure out quite what this clause is referring to…"

XXXXX

**A/N** I just want to mention that my last batch of reviews were thoughtful and fabulous and encouraging, so thank you all =] I wouldn't have the will to complete this behemoth without you.


	29. Chapter 29

**Disclaimer** Everything belongs to Paramount, I believe

**Chapter Twenty Nine**

"Spock, I looked over the applications," Prof Cormier said when she came into his office on Thursday. They had 27 minutes until the interviews began, and Prof Cormier had reviewed applications the night before to acquaint herself with the students. Spock looked up in acknowledgement of a fact he already knew.

"Uhura's isn't here," Prof Cormier noted, tapping through her PADD as though searching for it.

Spock folded his hands before him. "She did not submit one," he responded.

"But…I thought she wanted this job," Prof Cormier frowned. "I thought you wanted her to have this job."

"I did not ask her for an application as I already have her information," Spock explained, once more confused by the professor's questions. "I believe the purpose of the interviews is to acquaint myself with the applicants?"

"Well, yes…" Prof Cormier began.

"I am already acquainted with Cadet Uhura."

"But that's not the point, Spock." Alice was beginning to understand why Commander Lee had assigned her to contribute to his hiring process. "You can't hire her without an application."

"I did not see this rule in the procedural for TA positions," Spock replied with a tilted head. If he had defied Star Fleet code, he was not aware of it. With curiosity, he watched Prof Cormier sigh.

"Respectfully, Spock…" Prof Cormier started carefully, "I've done this more times than you have." Giving him a look he could not categorize, she finished, "And I probably know more about this area of Terran etiquette than you do." Spock acknowledged her with a thoughtful dip of his head. "So will you trust me on this, please? Get Nyota to submit an application?"

Spock surveyed her for a long moment, considering her words. Then he replied expressionlessly, "I will request an application from Cadet Uhura. Would you advise I also conduct an interview?"

"Yes, I would." Prof Cormier glanced at her watch. "But first we have to get through these nine."

XXX

"What are three adjectives that describe aspects of your personality which you believe will assist in your duties as TA?" Spock asked of his first student, a small girl who sat uncertainly in her chair, her hands moving distractingly.

"Uhh…I'm hardworking," she suggested. "Quiet. And I'll stay out of your way?"

"In what ways would the latter assist in your duties?" he asked expressionlessly, wanting to clarify.

"Well, I mean, obviously I'll be available when I'm needed. I just won't get, you know, in the way. Of you," the girl elaborated.

Thinking her babbling might interfere with her effectiveness in the classroom, he asked, "Do you often speak without trajectory or is it a symptom of nerves?"

The girl blinked at him, her eyes widening, and increased her fidgeting. "Umm…I guess sometimes I babble a little when I'm nervous, but I'll try to stop. I won't talk too much when I'm working. Unless I need to be talking, at the time…" she trailed off.

As Spock opened his mouth to ask a follow up question, Alice sighed. This was going to be a long afternoon.

"Why do you wish to be a TA for Advanced Phonology?"

"I'm a communications major. I think it'll help with my people skills and I think I can help the younger kids with the course," answered the young man with a confident smile.

"In what ways are you more qualified than your competition for this assignment that I have not already read in your application?"

"I'm a leader, and I'm good at helping people."

"Can you produce proof of these qualities?"

The student's smile faltered. "Well, I worked at camp over a few summers and liked helping. I think I was effective in my leadership, and the kids did what I asked them to do. I worked at an academic camp once and I was useful."

Slightly frustrated, Spock repeated, "Can you produce proof of this?"

"I guess I could try to get a letter or something, but it would be hard to contact my supervisors…" the boy said with a definite frown now. "This is why I didn't put it in my application. So I could just tell you about it."

Though the student didn't notice, Spock's brow furrowed infinitesimally.

"Professor Cormier—"

"Please call me Alice, Spock."

"I have not discovered the purpose of these interviews."

Alice surveyed the professor from where she sat across his office, next to the door. "I don't know what to tell you, Spock. This is part of the process. You have to decide who you'd work well with."

"I am going to base my decision on the qualities of the applicants," Spock said. "I have made no new decisions based on the interviews."

Alice sighed. "We just have two more. Can we do them now?"

"Call in the next cadet."

XXX

"So you'll ask Nyota for an application?" Alice asked, trying to rub away the headache at her temple as she gathered her things to stand up.

"Yes," Spock confirmed, watching her begin to leave. If he was not mistaken, Prof Cormier appeared wearied even though the process had only taken the scheduled two hours. Admittedly, the seemingly pointless exercise had invited a dull ache into his own mind. As soon as Prof Cormier closed the door behind her with a nod, he lowered himself to the floor to meditate.

XXX

Nyota walked to Spock's office with a bounce in her step; she hoped that, with much of the afternoon and the whole evening before her, she might be able to finish her translation. She knew Spock would be available to help her for most of that time, which increased her odds quite a bit; she smiled to herself knowing Spock would calculate them exactly.

His door was unlocked, as he apparently was already inside. Entering to find him meditating, one eye peeked open at her as the door whooshed back closed, Nyota stepped quietly behind the desk. She liked when he meditated while she was there, because his deep, even breathing soothed her.

She began working eagerly, soon forgetting all but the words before her.

When Spock had eradicated the ache of his head, he stood quietly. Nyota didn't notice him, as she appeared absorbed in her work, and he watched the translation flow onto her page rapidly. She had increased her speed over the course of her project. Finally she glanced around, and turned back when she saw him standing beside her.

"Oh, I hadn't noticed you'd finished," she smiled. Spock checked his mental barriers carefully as he studied the contented expression on her features. "Can you help me with this word here?"

He leaned forward over her shoulder, aware of their proximity, to examine what she pointed to. When he'd seen it as he read ahead of her, he had assumed she would ask him about it. "You most likely know the modern form of this word," he told her.

"What is it?" Nyota asked.

"_It says __k'hat'n'dlawa,"_ Spock said, his space-black eyes turning to her. "_The modern form is k'diwa."_

"Oh," she said, her mouth forming a small circle. "'Beloved.'"

"That is the closest translation Terrans have found," Spock agreed, sitting in his chair next to hers. As he turned to his own work, he saw her eyes still rested on him. When she didn't return to her screen, he obliged her by meeting her eyes again.

"_Is there a better translation?"_ she asked.

Spock wished he could categorize her expression, but he had insufficient data. "It is the term for a Vulcan's bondmate: one who shares thoughts and experiences." He spoke quietly and did not meet her gaze as he tried to encompass the connotations of the small word. "Bondmates are linked in thought but also in emotions and…" He looked at her, searching for the right word. "Have you learned of katra, Nyota?"

She nodded quietly.

"_Some say bondmates are joined in katra. The ancient word,__k'hat'n'dlawa, means 'half of my soul and heart._'" Nyota watched him with wide eyes. "_It is not used anymore because of its emotional connotations."_

Nyota dropped her eyes. She wanted so much for him to keep talking, but she dared not push him. They'd covered the whole bondmate thing in third level Vulcan class, of course, but she never thought they truly explained it. She wanted to know how the mental connection worked, what he thought about arranged marriages, wondered, again, about his former bondmate and how he had felt sharing his emotions with _her_.

"_Is—is that why you're so bothered by my being able to feel your emotions?" _she realized, speaking the words quietly as though they might not disturb the air as much that way. Hesitantly, she brought her eyes back up to his. "_Because that only happens with—"_

"_The sharing of emotions is deeply personal,"_ he said simply, his voice low and his frame stiff.

Nyota looked down again, thinking that she might actually understand his discomfort finally; understand why he was so bothered by sharing his emotions with his student…

Spock spoke again after a moment, his voice natural; "_There the use of 'k'hat'n'dlawa' conveys the connection between the two characters after Tolok's death."_

"_Did you finish reading it?"_ Nyota asked curiously.

He nodded. "_I finished sixteen days after you began."_

"_I forgot how quickly you read_," she smiled.

"_To the contrary,"_ he countered. "_For a Vulcan I read relatively slowly."_

She just shook her head at him. "_Relative to me, you read quickly._" Feeling jealous of how much more quickly he'd read the Vulcan document, she asked suddenly, "_Do you think in Vulcan, Spock?"_

"_It depends on my circumstances. When I am with humans, besides you, I usually think in Federation Standard English. But when alone I think in Vulcan still."_

"_When you meditate?" _she asked shyly.

Looking at her with an unfathomable expression, he concurred, "_Yes, when I meditate."_

Nyota returned to her work, still distracted, to find the word 'k'diwa' still untranslated in her document. "_What do you suggest I use for k'diwa?" _she asked.

"Beloved. _It will be best understood."_

Even once she had put it in, Nyota paused over her work. Sighing, she spun her chair again to look at her professor. "Spock," she began, "I know you didn't want to talk about this. But do you know why I could feel your emotions?" She spoke quietly, wishing there was another word she could substitute for 'emotions.' She couldn't read his dark eyes as he looked at her. "Why could I before, but now you've stopped it?"

Spock considered her carefully. He felt vaguely uncomfortable speaking to her of the concept of 'k'diwa' in general terms; he did not relish the thought of discussing their empathetic link. Yet, he felt he owed her something after subjecting her to such an inappropriate, personal ordeal. Would not an explanation help to alleviate some of his guilt?

"I believe it is because I am unbonded," he admitted finally, watching her expression intently. "Vulcan minds…" he began, but stopped, impatient with himself. Ordering his thoughts before he spoke, he finally continued, "As you are aware, Vulcans become bonded at seven. From then on one always has the presence of another, whether acknowledged and predominant or not," he said, thinking of his and T'Pring's distant relationship. "Unbonded Vulcan minds are not as predictable," he explained, his volume dropping. "I was not aware my control would change when I became unbonded." Finally, he looked back up at her. "We do not often speak of such things. Again, I apologize."

Nyota appeared to be deep in thought. "So, your mind," she confirmed, "was, like, projecting, without your awareness?"

"Most likely," he agreed. "I can control it now because I am aware of it."

As she watched him, one question popped into Nyota's mind: why her, and not any of her classmates? She knew none of the rest of them had sensed it. Was it something to do with her, and being able to receive it? Or was it something else? She couldn't make herself ask, because she wasn't sure what the answer would mean. Instead, she asked the next best thing. "Do you know…if all human minds are capable of telepathy with Vulcans?"

Instead of answering directly, Spock replied, "This was not telepathy, Nyota." She thought she heard a sort of bristling in his answer, and a sharpness, as he straightened his back. "You told me it was strictly empathic."

"Empathic, right," she murmured, realizing such a distinction must be so much more important in their culture. Patiently, she waited for him to answer her question, wondering if he'd mention his mother. Was she prying too much?

"I do not know," he finally obliged her. "My mother does have a complete telepathic relationship with my father," he said, clearly uncomfortable.

He did not mention his own experiences with other women.

She didn't ask anymore, but returned to her work silently, still preoccupied with wondering why it had only happened with her…

XXXXX

**A/N** This chapter—especially their conversation—very much evolved on its own. Please let me know how you liked it. I don't love the beginning of the chapter, but I like how the conversation came out. Have I elaborated enough on the "implications" of the link (PadawanMom asked a great question about it)? At least, the social ones. I will get into the more personal ones later…

For an explanation of katra, which is basically like a soul, but which I didn't feel like going into (partly because both of my characters know the basics), you can explore at /wiki/Katra (for some reason it won't let me actually link you to it)

Hope my US readers had a happy 4th of July weekend =] (and all the rest of you, I hope you had a happy normal weekend!)


	30. Chapter 30

**Disclaimer** Not mine. Thanks for letting us have our fun.

**Chapter Thirty**

"Spock," Nyota said in a disbelieving voice at 2130 as she tapped out a few words definitively, "I think I'm done."

Spock turned around towards her with _almost_ a smile; she beamed back at him. She saved her document three times even though she knew she didn't need to, then mailed it to herself and Sarah. "Can I mail it to you, too?" she asked of her professor.

"If you wish," he acknowledged, refraining from telling her the odds of needing so many backups.

When she'd finished, she yawned, saying, "I'll start editing tomorrow. My eyes hurt." Glancing at her PADD to see the time, she gasped. "Nine thirty? I didn't realize it got so late!" She turned to Spock with an accusatory gleam. "Why did you stay? You could have gone home!"

"I stayed in case you needed my assistance," he explained. "I was reading; it is not a problem."

"Thank you for the food," she said again, glancing at the remains of the sandwich he'd brought her. She couldn't quite recall, but she probably hadn't really thanked him at the time…

"You are welcome." Nyota felt a sort of release and leaned back in her chair contentedly. "I must make a request of you," Spock said blankly.

"What?"

"You must fill out an application for the TA position for Advanced Phonology."

Nyota sat up sharply. "Application?" she demanded. "You told me I had that position."

Spock considered her carefully. He had not foreseen the possibility of her becoming upset. "Commander Lee has made me complete the entire, unspoken yet apparently necessary process of interviews. However, you remain the most qualified candidate."

She frowned at him. "You mean you've already gotten other candidates?"

"I have already collected applications, yes," he acknowledged. "Professor Cormier informed me you would have to submit one as well." He could tell by the crease of her forehead that she was becoming confused.

"What does Prof Cormier have to do with it?"

"She was appointed to sit in on the interviews today."

Nyota stood up abruptly, forcing him to raise his eyes to hers. "Today?" she asked with eyebrows raised.

"I conducted interviews today, with Prof Cormier in attendance. I do not fully understand the purpose of—"

"Why didn't you tell me?" she challenged hotly.

Spock tilted his head, examining the situation. She huffed out a breath, indicating that she was becoming impatient with him. "I did not formerly believe," he stated carefully, "that you would need to be involved—"

"Involved in competing for a job I thought you'd already given me?" Her pitch was increasing; Spock already knew this was a negative sign.

"You are the best candidate; as I was adequately certain, this process has not changed my decision."

"But now you want me to submit an application?"

"I believe this would be in protocol, yes," he answered warily. Nyota huffed out another sigh, closing her eyes.

"I wish you had told me," she said finally, opening her eyes again.

"Acknowledged," Spock returned, deciding it would be illogical to begin a discussion about when he would have told her despite not believing it necessary; it would only complicate the conversation, and not resolve her frustration. Perhaps he would ask later, when she was less emotional, to understand better.

"You're so hard to be mad at," she whined, plopping back down into her chair.

"Explain."

"It's a lot harder to be mad at someone who lets you win a point," she explained with a shrug of her shoulders.

"First, why would you wish to be mad at me?" he asked, concealing his confusion. Increasing said confusion, Nyota grinned at him.

"I don't know, it's a stupid emotional thing. Like sometimes you just want to mope even though you know it's unhealthy?" Spock's expression remained blank. "Okay, nevermind. What's number two?"

"Why did you say I 'let you win'?"

"You didn't argue back," she explained. "You conceded that maybe you should have told me earlier."

"To the contrary," he began, "I acknowledged that you wanted me to tell you earlier. I stated nothing about the advisability of my doing so." He watched Nyota's expression carefully; her eyes narrowed, but she just shrugged.

"Close enough for me." Spock catalogued this important information fastidiously: the ending of an argument is possibly achieved by acknowledging the other's point.

"Nyota," he started, "For my own future reference…"

"Yeah?" she prompted with a slight frown.

"Why did you assume I was upset with you after you told me of my empathic projections?" he asked quietly.

"Because of how you reacted. And you told me to get out. And then you didn't talk to me, and I figured you'd be angry that I hadn't told you," she said, her words rushing together faster than they normally did.

He tilted his head to the side, thinking. "Did you construe emotion in my request that you leave?"

"Spock," she said with eyebrows raised, "you ordered me to get out." Examining him closely, she whispered, "You sounded so angry."

Spock stood, agitated, and folded his hands behind his back before turning back to her. "I was angry with myself. Not with you. I apologize for the miscommunication."

Nyota peered up at him, tilting her own head to the side and sending her ponytail streaming off her shoulder in an unconscious imitation of the man before her. His shoulders were tense and there was a definite frown on his forehead. Was he upset that he had shown emotion, or that he had upset her? Did she care which it was?

"Okay," she nodded quietly, drawing his eyes back down to hers. She wished, again, that she had back that connection, because she couldn't quite read the expression in his eyes. Before she could think about what she was doing, she said quietly, "You know, I sort of miss it."

Carefully maintaining a blank expression, Spock wondered if she truly understood what her words meant; what it meant to him that she wished to share his emotions. Beyond his control, his chest felt like it constricted in an illogical way. In answer to her, he only said, "It is best I do not allow it."

Nyota nodded in the distracted way she did when thinking. After a few moments, she picked up her PADD and bag and stepped towards the door. Before she passed him, she laid a light hand on his shoulder, giving him time to raise his mental shields, and reached on her tiptoes to press a chaste kiss to his cheek, making sure not to touch his skin for too long. "Thank you for everything," she said quietly, then proceeded to the door. Pausing, she asked, "Just a standard TA application?"

Spock nodded, his stance still stiff and his voice expressionless. "We will arrange your interview tomorrow after class. I presume you will return here to begin editing?"

She nodded with a smile and left his office for the darkened campus, thinking he would probably be returning to his apartment imminently.

XXX

"Did you finish?" Sarah asked excitedly when Nyota poked her head into her friend's room. Sarah and Benji were sitting on Mory's bed with a video paused in between them.

"Yes!" Nyota squealed excitedly. "I'm going to start editing tomorrow, but I should be done by term break!"

Sarah clapped her hands together eagerly. "That's so exciting! And then you're writing a separate thesis, right?"

"Yeah, I haven't thought about it enough yet. But now that I'm done I want to start using the text to come up with a point to make," she nodded, pulling out Sarah's desk chair to sit.

Benji asked, "Are you going to do something related to the story, or the language?"

"I want to do something with the language, since my major is communications…That reminds me—" she said, turning to Sarah, "—You know my TA position next semester?"

"Advanced Phonology, yeah."

"He said he opened it to applications."

"Yeah, I knew that," Sarah said, giving her a bemused look. "It was posted on the communications message boards. I thought you knew."

"No, I didn't!" Nyota exclaimed. "I hadn't been on, I guess, because I haven't needed anything…He told me I'd gotten it!"

"I figured he was going through the motions," Sarah shrugged.

"I think they have to interview people," Benji nodded. "They had a bunch of favoritism issues a few years ago."

Suddenly Nyota remembered Commander Lee's suspicious looks at her when they'd gotten back to campus that day…had it been before or after Spock had handed in the papers for her? She couldn't remember, but maybe that was why it was an issue… "Whatever. I'm letting him off the hook. But I have to go make out an application, so I'll see you guys later?"

"Good luck! Not that he's not going to hire you anyway…" Sarah said as Nyota waved and left the room.

XXX

"Here's my application," Nyota said cheerily, handing Spock a PADD once they'd reached his office.

As he took it from her with a nod, he said, "I regret that this is most likely a redundant exercise, as I compiled your resume before agreeing to hire you."

She shrugged. "I suppose we humans sometimes participate in redundancy in the name of rules. Just make sure you didn't miss anything."

Spock glanced through it quickly, scanning the academic information she'd included and mentally cross referencing it with her spreadsheet page. "I do not believe I missed anything," he assured her, sitting in the second chair behind his desk. "I spoke with Prof Cormier this morning; we are both free to conduct your interview on Monday afternoon; I assumed you are available."

"Umm, yeah, I think so," she said, opening her documents on the desktop. "Oh, and can you help me with a little review before the final? I know it's not for a bit, but I wanted to ask."

"If you wish."

Starting back at the beginning, Nyota patiently began the process of rereading everything she'd translated to recheck it. Unsurprisingly, certain parts reminded her of what she'd been doing the first time she read it; this made her think of the beginning of her year. She found herself focusing less on her work than on the soft breathing of her professor beside her. A few short months ago she had only known him by reputation, and now he was her thesis advisor, hopefully her future TA director, and, perhaps, something a bit closer? Glancing over at him, with his head bent studiously over his PADD grading papers, she couldn't claim he thought of her as anything more than a student. Could she?

Did she want to? Sitting there, working beside him silently, she realized that she did. And that it was probably a problem. That look from Commander Lee came to her once again, the one she'd worried was about their relationship, but that she'd ignored. She wanted to reach out her fingers and touch the back of his hand so she could feel his emotions again. Instead, she rubbed at her eyes and tried staring unsuccessfully at the screen before her.

A contentment stole over her, but she realized it wasn't hers. Closing her eyes, she basked in how smoothly it had slipped into her before quietly saying, "I can feel you again." It snapped away as Spock murmured a quiet apology and scooted his chair away infinitesimally.

If she was perfectly honest with herself? This had turned into something she had never anticipated. Somewhere between lunches with him and being mad at each other and getting over it, she felt like they were more than student and teacher, even if she couldn't feel his emotions any longer.

But, for the thousandth time since she admitted she had some sort of infatuation with him, she reminded herself that this was her _Vulcan professor_, meaning _nothing_ was going to happen.

She had to do her interview with him, and finish double checking her translation. But if she was going to work as his TA, she needed to accept this and then get over it. Right? Again, she looked over at him working, his expression a certain brand of blank betraying relaxation. This time he caught her and his eyes met hers to study her guilelessly.

"I should go," she said suddenly, but softly, turning away to her document and saving it again before gathering her things without a glance at her professor. He watched her without surprise or any other detectable emotion; as she fled the room, he said simply, "I will see you on Monday, Cadet."

"Of course," she agreed before she could let his black eyes change her mind.

XXXXX

**A/N **Was the ending sudden? I think the moment Nyota responds, "Okay," to his apology is an important one—this conversation marks them starting to make concessions to each other, and to understand each other. (It foreshadows that moment in the turbolift after the attack on Vulcan when Nyota completely accepts that he doesn't need her attention publicly in that moment.)

Thanks to all on a little milestone-thirty chapters! Couldn't have done it without you all! Drop a line-it only takes a few moments =]


	31. Chapter 31

**Disclaimer **The usual

**Chapter Thirty One**

"Hi, Prof Cormier," Nyota greeted the professor as the latter walked into Spock's office. He and the cadet already sat across from each other at the desk, and Prof Cormier moved to the corner seat to observe the interview.

"Hello, Nyota. Spock," Prof Cormier nodded.

"Shall we begin?" Spock asked as Alice settled into her seat and pulled out a PADD for notes. Nyota looked comfortable, with one booted leg thrown over the other and her hands folded on her knee. Spock, too, folded his hands and turned that unnerving gaze on her.

"Of course, Commander," Nyota replied easily, "if Professor Cormier is ready."

"All set," Alice said quietly.

"In what ways are you qualified for this job which I did not see on your application?" Spock asked crisply.

Taking just a moment to answer, Nyota answered, "My application cannot attest to my determination. I will be willing to put in an unending amount of work to make sure my job is completed satisfactorily." Alice watched the cadet put up a preemptive hand and heard the smile in her voice as she qualified, "Metaphorically, of course. I will be restrained by my abilities and other responsibilities, but I believe I have more than sufficient time to dedicate to my work."

Spock nodded. "Do you believe you are more qualified than the other candidates to take this job?" he asked.

"I don't know them all, but probably, yes," Nyota said immodestly, her chin tipped up. "You have our technical qualifications in front you; I believe I was top of my Advanced Phonology class when I took it. Furthermore, I work well with people."

"Can you produce proof of the last?"

Alice restrained a sigh; he had gotten so many cadets with this line…

Nyota tipped her head sideways, making Alice compare the two people seated across from each other. "Not quantifiable proof, no," Nyota admitted. "However, you have seen my interactions with my classmates, and I invite you to speak with Dr. Ferrous. Or Prof Cormier," she added, sending a brilliant smile over her shoulder. "I took a lab course with her and argue that I worked especially efficiently with my partners."

Spock looked between the two women for a moment and finally settled on Nyota. Alice was surprised when, instead of asking another question, he said expressionlessly, "I do not understand the reason I am interviewing you instead of speaking with other contacts for more information, if you can only direct me to others."

Alice's eyebrows rose. Perhaps she really should have spoken to him more before starting these interviews, but she hadn't wanted to seem presumptuous. It surprised her that he would reveal his misunderstanding to an applicant in the first place.

Nyota's response surprised her more. She just continued to meet the Vulcan's eyes, and replied carefully, "I think interviews are less about the information exchanged than the interaction."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Explain."

"You probably feel like this is pointless; I mean, I already gave you an application with no more information than you already had on me. And hypothetically you put all pertinent information into your application, so how much more can you really provide in an interview?" Nyota shrugged. Spock was watching her closely. "But humans like to have interviews because…quantifiable information is not always enough to make a decision on."

"What other information is gleaned from this process?" Spock asked, almost sounding impatient.

Again, Alice heard Nyota's smile from behind her. "We like to like who we work with," she explained. "There's something unquantifiable about people that cannot be distilled onto paper, and meeting someone for just fifteen or thirty minutes can reveal that sort of thing. If their personality matches yours, if they have habits you wouldn't be able to stand, whether they have the presence they might need for the job…"

Spock didn't reply, so Nyota continued explaining. "It's probably not something you really care about. You could work with anyone; if you don't like them, it's not going to affect your productivity." Alice swore she could see a cheeky grin spreading across the cadet's features. "But it can affect humans—so it's probably good you gave interviews for the applicants' sake." Now she was definitely beaming. "This way they'll know what they're in for."

Prof Cormier's eyes snapped back over to Spock, but he didn't look angry. Of course, if he was, she wouldn't be able to tell, would she? But even when he replied, he did not seem concerned about what Nyota had said.

"I believe it is beneficial that you already know my work habits, Cadet Uhura," he said.

Nyota nodded. "I think so, too."

"And," he continued, dipping his head, "I acknowledge that some people find me difficult to work with, though I have yet to ascertain why."

Nyota had the temerity to giggle, sending Alice's eyes back again to Spock, but he was just surveying the cadet with detached interest. "If you are laughing because you know the answer to my conundrum, I hope you will one day enlighten me, Nyota," he said.

"My pleasure, Spock," she returned. The Lieutenant Commander appraised her for another long moment, but Nyota's eyes didn't leave his.

"If that is indeed the purpose of an interview," he finally said, "then I do not believe we need to continue. I already know you, Cadet Uhura."

Glancing briefly behind her with a smile again, Nyota said, "Yes, but we need to humor the powers that be, Spock." Alice smiled softly as she bent over her PADD. "Ask me a few more questions about how great I am at phonology."

Was that a small smile on Spock's lips? Alice wondered. Before she could double take, the expression was gone, and he was saying, "Would you like to inform me of 'how great you are' at phonology?"

"You've heard me speak Vulcan, Romulan, and Andorian, sir," she said cheerily. "You know how well I can produce distinct sounds within a language."

"And Swahili," Spock added. "When you were mumbling to yourself over your translation."

"You heard that?" Nyota asked, clearly surprised and a little embarrassed. "You didn't tell me!"

"It did not bother me. You should know Vulcans have exceptional hearing compared to humans."

Alice mostly just watched the rest of the "interview," her notes abandoned, as they did not speak any more about the professional qualities required to be Spock's TA. Thankfully Spock dismissed her after 13 and a third minutes, because otherwise she didn't know how she would have gotten away.

XXX

Nyota walked back to her dorm berating herself. Her plan was not working so far; she'd meant to stay detached during their interview, but they had quickly fallen into comfortable conversation. At least she was almost sure she had the job. She flattered herself she was probably near the top in terms of qualification, and Spock admitted it would help that they knew each other already. She wondered what Prof Cormier would recommend.

"Uhura!" Nyota turned to see Sarah, Benji, and Ling sitting out on the grass despite the cool temperatures. She changed her steps to reach them and plop down next to her friends.

"I was just talking about how much our Advanced Subspace final is going to suck," Sarah said, making Nyota groan.

"I know. Physics just isn't my thing, seriously."

"Did you just come from Spock's office?" Ling asked.

"Yeah," Nyota smiled, "I had my interview to be his TA next semester."

"How'd it go?" Benji wondered.

"Well, I think," Nyota nodded. "He'll probably decide soon, because the end of the semester is bearing down on us…"

Sarah dropped back onto her back to frown up at the sky. "Don't I know it! I have four papers to write by the end of the week! I hate how they all assign things at the same time…"

"Then what are you doing lying out here in the grass?" Nyota asked pointedly. Sarah grinned.

"Building up my strength. I plan on spending the rest of my afternoon working, I swear, but I wanted a break first!"

Standing, Nyota held out a hand to her friend. "Alright, Mory," she said, "let's go hunker down." Sarah let Ny pull her to her feet. "We've both got plenty to do."

Benji and Ling, too, begged off for work, and Nyota and Sarah walked back towards their dorm. "So the interview went well, you think?" Sarah asked.

"Quite frankly, I think I have really good chances," Nyota shrugged. "I'm qualified, he knows we can work together…"

"It's not weird after...everything?" Sarah asked skeptically.

"It's okay," Nyota shook her head. "We're both over it, I think…mostly." She glanced over at her companion. "Actually…maybe it's been a little too good," she said quietly.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I think I should get away from him a bit," Nyota admitted.

Sarah mock gasped. "Are you saying what I think you're saying? That your friend Sarah was right the whole time and you—"

"Shut it!" Nyota exclaimed with a whack to Mory's shoulder. "Don't go yelling it around campus! But yes, okay, maybe there is something…But it doesn't matter," she insisted, eyeing the expectant look on Sarah's face. "Nothing is going to happen, because he is my professor, he is Vulcan—and I won't let it."

"Okay…" Sarah shrugged unconvincingly as she swiped them into the dorm. "But you still have to see him like every day."

"No," Nyota countered, "because I'll be done with my edits soon, and then I have finals, and then I leave for the holidays."

"True," Sarah allowed as she paused in front of her door, "but absence never cooled your heart much before, Nyota."

Her darker skinned companion frowned. "Yeah, I know. Maybe we should go on a cutie hunting mission. This just can't happen."

"Focus on finals first, Ny," Sarah advised. "I have a feeling with all this work you won't really have a choice anyway."

XXX

"Ferrous," Alice began, plopping down into her chair in his office, "they're ridiculous."

The doctor laughed. "Spock and Uhura? What do you mean?"

Alice shook her head. "I can't tell him not to hire her. They actually…get along."

"Alice, we get along with Spock, it's not that hard to imagine."

"Not like they do, George," Alice replied, watching Ferrous tap through messages on his PADD. At her response he glanced up at her.

"What do you mean?" he asked again.

"I've never heard him have such a light conversation. He asked her few questions, then admitted he doesn't get the point of interviews."

Ferrous furrowed his brow. "He wouldn't, would he?"

"I knew he didn't, but I didn't expect him to say it to Uhura. And then she explained it to him better than I ever could have."

"Did he get it?"

Alice nodded. "I think he got it."

"So was it a good interview?" Ferrous queried.

"By the end they were just having a conversation," Alice shrugged. "It was like I was eavesdropping."

"So they've really gotten along, all cooped up while Nyota did her translation," Ferrous reasoned. "Huh."

"I guess so. And Nyota's the most qualified anyways, so of course she'd going to get the job."

Nodding pensively, Ferrous said, "If she can work with the guy, I guess it's all the better."

"You wanted her to have the job anyway, Ferrous," Alice pointed out.

George broke into a grin. "I only suggested it because I knew he'd accept. You know I was never worried about this whole interview nonsense."

Prof Cormier nodded with a smile. "It may smell a bit of favoritism," she admitted, "but hopefully it's best for everyone involved in the end."

"Speaking of 'in the end,'" Ferrous said, "I need to ask Nyota about her translation. She should get going on her thesis soon."

"She mentioned it, actually," Alice perked up. "She said she would come to see you."

"Good," Ferrous nodded. "Time for her to get the show on the road."

XXXXX

**A/N **I wrote this chapter surprisingly quickly. Please leave a review to let me know what you think!

We'll get back to some Spock POV next chapter =]


	32. Chapter 32

**Disclaimer** Star Trek is not mine. I continue to post a disclaimer because I don't want to be sued! My only reward is reviews.

**Chapter Thirty Two**

Later that week at dinner, Nyota found Ferrous in the common dining hall eating with several of his fellow faculty members. As she placed her tray down, he turned a wide grin on her.

"Uhura! Haven't had a nice chat with you in a while."

"Hey, Dr F," she smiled, smoothing her skirt beneath her legs as she sat. "Sorry I haven't come to see you lately."

"Understandable," he nodded, shifting in his seat to give her his full attention. "You've been busy, I heard."

Nyota nodded emphatically as she buttered a roll. "With finals coming up, and my class work…I had my interview for Spock's TA position on Monday!"

"How'd it go?" he asked enthusiastically.

"I think it went well," she said simply. "Spock knows whether I'm the best for the job or not."

Ferrous leaned in towards her conspiratorially. "Don't tell anyone I said this, Nyota," he said with a sharp look in his eye, "but Prof Cormier thinks you are."

Bursting into a grin, Nyota mock sealed her lips with her fingers. "I won't say anything. I've been too consumed by my translation the last few days to worry about it anyways."

"Have you finished?"

"Just about," she said proudly. "I'd of course like to read it over at least one more time, and I have a few words I haven't made decisions about, but almost."

"That's great, Nyota," he nodded. "So you've been thinking about your thesis?"

Nyota turned to dive into her bag and pull out a PADD. "I scribbled down some ideas," she confirmed, offering the notes for his perusal. Becoming impatient as he read, she explained, "I noticed the grammatical structure is a lot more complex than Modern Golic Vulcan. Pronoun use, description, vocabulary…I think it's linked to the cultural shift since _Ha-kiv t'Verat _was written."

Ferrous looked up at her. "You're going the language route instead of content?"

"Do you think that's okay?" she asked.

"I think that's better," he agreed, looking back down at her notes. "This is complex, Nyota," he said. "You'll need way more backing than just your translation."

"I know," she said. "But I like the cultural tie in. Do you think I can support it?"

"Yeah, I do," Ferrous said, wearing his serious face. "Have you spoken to Spock about it?"

Ignoring the slight flush of her cheeks, Nyota shook her head. "No, not yet. But I will."

"I think it'll be important to have his support for a cultural/language thesis like that. But I think it's good."

Nyota sighed in relief. "I'm so glad you approve!"

"Hey, Mary Beth," Ferrous called down the table, "you're a xenocultural professor. Wanna help with a thesis?"

XXX

Spock watched Nyota enter his office in his peripherals and checked his mental shields. He had slipped four times since discovering their empathic link; each time it happened he determined it would not occur again, and he was becoming frustrated with himself.

As Nyota sat with a quiet greeting he pushed his thoughts away from her quick, unfathomable kiss again. He was also becoming frustrated by his inability to understand or refrain from thinking of the action. He'd tensed when she touched his shoulder, and still could not deduce why she had pressed her lips to his cheek. He had studied all situations he had witnessed involving such chaste kisses, but still could not categorize the moment.

He had not had extensive chances to make inferences based on her further behavior because she had been spending less time in his presence. After her interview on Monday, she had sought out his company less and, when working, been less likely to draw him into conversation. He did not know what any of this meant.

"Oh, Spock," she said, spinning her chair to speak to him. "I wanted to ask you about my thesis. I think I've decided what I want to do." His steady look encouraging her, she continued, "I want to demonstrate the simplification of the Vulcan language over time based on my translation."

Spock tilted his head as he thought. "In my knowledge this has been pointed out but not expounded upon."

"I'd like to make cultural parallels as well."

"Very well. That will be sufficient."

Spock resumed his work despite being aware of her gaze still on him; after a few moments she returned her attention to the desktop.

She only stayed for eleven minutes, and when she stood, she picked up the jar of peppermints she had brought in weeks ago. Fiddling with it, she finally turned to Spock and said, "I just had to get my stuff, but I'm done." Spock looked up at her hiding his surprise and disappointment; her tone reminded him of goodbyes. "I won't need your desktop anymore—thanks for letting me use it."

"You are welcome," he acknowledged.

"And I changed my mind about the review—I'll be fine without it." Spock nodded once, trying to understand the look in her dark eyes. He thought perhaps she would say something personal, or reach out a hand to him again, but she merely said, "I'll see you in class," and walked from his office. He stared after her for some time, trying to capture the extra meaning in her words that he felt sure he had missed.

XXX

The next few weeks spun past Nyota; the campus felt simultaneously worn out and excited for the upcoming break. The underclassmen and faculty became cheered by the Christmas spirit, but the seniors in particular began to feel the pinch of looming deadlines. Besides finishing first semester classes, they had to prepare for senior projects, final classes, and post-graduation plans.

"Okay, bed," Nyota demanded, rubbing at her eyes uncomfortably. She was sitting at her desk, for once, with a PADD before her; her attempts at keeping herself uncomfortable hadn't really helped keep her awake.

"But I'm almost done!" Gaila insisted, her voice betraying her addled state. Nyota looked over at the Orion, whose expression looked deranged in its under-lit lighting.

"It's almost five, Gai…"

"Then we can make it through!" she said, still typing as she spoke.

"No," Nyota shook her head, standing up and taking Gaila by the upper arm. "We both have our last classes tomorrow, and they're important, and we can finish these when we wake up. I don't have class until ten, and you don't have class until eleven. We're sleeping."

Reluctantly, Gaila let her roommate pull her to her bed; both girls collapsed and slept a few scant hours before forcing themselves up to finish their essays.

"Done! Half an hour to spare!" Nyota grinned. Gaila just groaned, but didn't look up. "Good luck!" Nyota said on her way out the door. "I'm going to grab a coffee!"

XXX

Spock's last Advanced Subspace Communicative Physics class was uneventful; he gave his last lecture and even let them leave ten minutes early. He did notice all but two of his students nursed a coffee between their hands, and three gave whoops of joy as they handed in their last essays.

"You are bound by Starfleet honor code on your finals," he explained. "Do not work with anyone else, do not use any of your class materials or outside information, and do not work longer than three and a half hours. I will post the exam Tuesday of finals week at seven a.m.; you must submit it by midnight on Thursday. That is all; you are dismissed."

His class began to buzz with the excitement of students promised imminent freedom, and they poured out his door quickly. Nyota was the last to leave; she lingered before walking out the door.

"Please remain, Nyota," he said, watching her spin towards him quickly, her ponytail twirling with her.

"Yes, Commander?"

"Commander Lee, Professor Cormier, and I have agreed you are the best suited to the position as my TA," he stated as he hooked his hands behind his back and thought of how Alice had described the Commander as 'gruff and unwilling' in his approval of Nyota. He was gratified by just the smile he had expected her to adopt at the news; her eyes compressed with her joy.

"Thank you so much, Commander," she said politely, but he thought he detected suppressed emotion behind her words.

"No thanks are necessary," he assured her. "You are the most qualified."

"Well, thank you anyways," she repeated. "I suppose—I might see you on campus, but otherwise…have a pleasant break!"

"And you, as well," he said as she stepped towards the door. Before he could realize he wanted to ask if she was travelling home, she had forgone the same question to him and left his classroom. He hadn't even wished her "luck" on his final to watch her smirk at him feigning Terran conventions.

Spock returned to his office to begin grading the class' essays; just after he turned on the desktop, the vid communicator began chiming.

"Sa-mekh," Spock greeted his father as he appeared on the screen.

"Sa-fu," Sarek nodded. "_I believe I have found an explanation."_

XXX

Quiet week passed quickly, with Nyota either in her room or Sarah's studying. She only saw Spock twice, in the dining hall, and avoided him. During finals week she didn't see him at all, but felt quite confident about all her exams.

As soon as she returned from her last test on Thursday, she began packing. With Gaila still out and no more exams to mentally review for, she found the sudden silence in her mind deafening. She wasn't very surprised to find the vacuum filled by thoughts of Spock.

Frowning, she realized that…she kind of missed him. That's what this was, right? She had four little stories she wanted to tell him; nothing significant, but she thought he would appreciate hearing about what she'd been doing. She had two questions about her translation to ask him, but hadn't had the chance to talk to him. And she wanted to see him again; it had been two weeks since she'd seen his eyebrow quirk up in amusement or skepticism. Shaking her head, she threw two pairs of shorts and a PADD in her suitcase; getting away was definitely the best way to do this. Maybe her family could help keep her mind off him. She'd felt so frazzled, and blamed it all on her schoolwork, but honestly, maybe part of her had been moping…

"Damn," she said suddenly, straightening up as she tucked in the last of her clothes. "The sensor array lab." Checking her comm, she decided she had enough time that night; she'd forgotten one last assignment from Spock that needed to be finished before she left the next morning.

Her last exam hadn't ended until late afternoon, so the early winter sun was already sliding down towards the horizon. Nyota was glad she'd be leaving the chilly air for Kenya; she walked quickly towards the dark Physics building. Inside there were only calm murmurs from a few classrooms, but she didn't see anyone on her way to the senor array lab.

Slipping on her headphones, Nyota quickly queued up the last time segment Spock needed her to review and did her best at letting her mind zone in on the task.

An undetermined amount of time later, Nyota was pulled from her work by the sound of the door hissing open. Spinning, she saw Spock standing in the doorway just as he had when his father had visited. She felt just as uncomfortable as she had then as she pulled off her headphones.

"I messaged you," Spock said as he brought his hands behind his back, "but apparently you did not receive it. I can finish the assignment."

"Oh. No, I didn't get it," she said unnecessarily. "It's no problem—I should have done it earlier anyways…"

"Is it not Starfleet tradition to celebrate the end of one's exams?"

"More of a human tradition," she smiled. "How did you know I was done?"

Watching her blankly, he replied simply, "I am aware of your classes."

Nyota just blinked, not sure what her response to that should be. "Well," she said uncertainly, "I really can finish this. I don't mind—"

"Please, allow me," Spock said, taking a step closer. "I am sure you had a relatively strenuous week."

"I have, actually…"

"Then you can begin to relax instead of completing a nonessential task."

Nyota was surprised: she wouldn't have expected him to think of such an emotional kindness…Before she could be touched, she pulled her things together. "You're sure, Spock?" Her professor—well, _her _professor no longer, she realized—nodded, and she stood. "Actually, it will be kind of nice to have the night off with everyone, since I'm leaving tomorrow."

Spock's eyebrows rose. "You are travelling home?" he inquired.

Nyota nodded. "I'm visiting home for the break." He didn't answer right away, but his dark eyes remained on her for a beat too long. "Thanks again, Spock. I'll see you when I get back."

"Make sure to take all precautions to ensure your safety," he said quietly.

"Of course," she said, moving to breeze past him. "I'll make sure not to get a crazy or drunken pilot!" she laughed lightly.

Suddenly, she felt his hand at her wrist, preventing her from passing him. Sucking in a breath, she snapped her eyes up to his, which were trained on her with a dark intensity she didn't see very often. His shields were down; inundating her were several potent emotions at once: slight vestigial surprise; an affection and caring, quite obviously for her well-being; and a unexpected protectiveness that made her head swirl. She was hardly aware of her sense of sight as he said insistently, "_Be safe."_

Then his skin had abandoned hers, but she could still feel the coolness of where his hand had been, and he'd cast his eyes downward and the emotional cut-off after such strength disoriented her. So she just nodded, meaning yes, of course she'd be safe and come back, but she couldn't say anything, and then she'd fled the lab and was darting down the stairs, for once looking forward to the cool blast of air awaiting her outside.

XXXXX

**A/N **Hope you enjoyed =] Reviews are the only reward I get—throw me a bone?


	33. Chapter 33

**Disclaimer** Does anyone think Paramount is actually going to read about how I swear none of this belongs to me?

**Chapter Thirty Three**

Nyota found herself staring out of her window pensively as she flew over the continental United States; a large man in the seat next to her made her feel a bit squished, but at least she'd gotten the window seat. She watched dispassionately as the patch-worked land below her rolled slowly by.

Her last night had been cheerful, and Gaila and Sarah had seen her off enthusiastically. Though most of the students would be travelling the next day, and although she'd caught an early flight, she'd been accompanied to the shuttle port by a fairly large group of chattering students. Only now, by herself on her way to Nairobi, did her thoughts settle again on saying goodbye to Spock.

She wanted to forget about it; she hated dwelling on it like some sick teenage girl…But she wanted to figure out what that emotion had been. She'd never felt like that herself, and she had no word for it…Futilely, she tried to exactly recall the intensity of the feeling as he held her wrist. But as she closed her eyes to imagine it, her late night, early waking, and boredom caught up with her and she drifted to sleep.

XXX

She awoke with a sharp crick in her neck; checking the time, she sighed. Still much too much time to go. With the ten hour time difference plus the flight length, it would be the next morning in Kenya before she arrived.

After two naps, another edit to her translation, and an embarrassing amount of time spent contemplating whether Spock had left his shields down on purpose or accidentally, Nyota looked out the window to see dawn over familiar land. Suddenly feeling restless, she waited impatiently to land so she could stand up and walk. Though she'd taken some time to wander and check out the tiny lounge, she still had been sitting for too long.

Shouldering her backpack as soon as they docked, Nyota pressed into the restless crowd. Outside her terminal she finally felt her muscles relax as the wide, grinning face of her brother came into view.

"Little sister!" he cried in their first language, looking a bit bleary so early in the morning, but grinning with outstretched arms nonetheless. Nyota made herself jog the last few steps to throw her arms around him. Smiling, she slipped comfortably into the Swahili.

"Hi, Mosi. Glad to see me?'

He took her bag from her hands and swung it over his broad shoulders as though it weighed nothing. Placing a hand around her back, he steered her easily through the crowd, people parting naturally for the tall man. "Despite having to wake up so early? Yes," he smiled.

"Are you trying to claim you operate on a normal schedule as a resident?" Nyota asked, stifling a yawn. Her brother laughed, sending the low sound over the heads of everyone around them. She smiled again as a few people turned with kind expressions; she had forgotten how much she loved her brother's laugh. "Take me home?"

"At your service," he nodded.

XXX

Nyota sat on the deck of their home with her face upturned towards the rising sun. Her eyes were closed, her stomach full, as she listened to her parents and brother conversing around her. She and Mosi had reached the house just outside the city as the sun stumbled over the Uhura property, and her mother had met her with an engulfing hug and huge breakfast. From her father she'd received an approving nod.

"If only Asha were home," her mother lamented. "We haven't all been together since the summer before Nyota left for the Academy."

"We have our big conference vids," Mosi pointed out.

"It's not the same, tiba," her mother said, reaching out a hand to smooth over her daughter's shoulder. "I can't touch you all over vid."

Nyota opened her eyes to smile back at the pleasantly round woman and the man sitting silently behind her. It felt good to be home.

XXX

A few evenings later, Nyota sat at her childhood desk, feet planted right before her on the chair, sighing over her translated copy of _Ha-kiv t'Verat._ From behind her came a soft rapping on the doorframe; her mother entered before Nyota could say 'come in.'

Mangeni glanced around at the brightly painted walls as she sat on the bed. "Hello, mama," Nyota said, tucking her chin onto her knees and spinning her chair.

Peering at her with large, dark eyes, her mother replied simply, "Something is wrong."

"I'm fine," Nyota insisted. "What do you mean?"

"You are happy to be home," Mangeni said, "but you've been in your room too much. What is it?"

"Well, my translation is frustrating me. There's this one word—"

"You miss someone," her mother interrupted her with a shake of her head. "Is it a boy? You haven't told me about any boys this year, and I'm not going to believe your quick little heart hasn't found someone."

Nyota smiled ruefully at the penetrating look her mother had given her all through her childhood. It was not long resisted. "Sort of, mama. There's a boy I'm trying to forget," she admitted, trying not to wrinkle her nose at calling the stoic, lean Vulcan a boy.

Mosi poked his head in the room, leaning on the doorframe. "What's this? Is there a guy I need to beat up?"

"I can take care of myself," Nyota said just as her mother shooed, "Go, go, this is women's talk." Mosi gave them a lopsided grin but pushed away from the door jamb to continue down the hall.

"And why do you need to forget him, tiba?"

Sighing, Nyota replied, "Because there's no use to me pining when there's no chance."

Mangeni puffed out her chest. "Nyota Uhura, did I teach you to accept things the way they are when you don't like it?"

Chewing her bottom lip, Nyota said, "No."

"Then you won't pine. Whoever this man is, he is lucky, and you need to let him know how you feel," she advised. "Then you can live happily ever after or get over him."

Nyota grimaced internally. And what if her mother knew she was encouraging her youngest daughter to pursue her Vulcan professor?

"Thank you for the advice, mama," she said, still frowning.

Mangeni continued to peer at her daughter. "Now give me your comb," she commanded. "Let me brush my baby's hair before you leave again."

XXX

That night Nyota lay awake long after her parents had gone to bed; she felt like she was living back at home as a teenager as she looked up at the sky through her window. She used to gaze up at the stars and imagine flying away into them. Now, the nearly full moon and blinking stars seemed so much closer, yet still incredibly far away.

She was trying to figure out the one last word in her project that she hadn't decided on. It appeared three times, and she was quite sure it was an emotion, but she hadn't yet placed it. She'd been imagining the scenarios repeatedly, trying to match one emotion to all three situations, but she was still doubting herself. She'd asked Spock the first time she found it, but he had said he didn't know what it was, and told her she was more perceptive to emotions anyway.

Still thinking of her translation, Nyota floated into dreams…

XXX

_She found herself in one of the three situations she had memorized as she studied her translation, although her dream mind didn't know this. She was the woman; her identity didn't really seem to matter, but she did know that Verat, her bondmate, was beside her. They were preparing a plan for entering the temple rising in reddish stone above them, because her mother needed a comb—was that right?—but they weren't supposed to go in because they weren't of the right tribe. She was suggesting she could distract the temple guards if she uncovered her shoulders._

_Verat looked over at her with the undefined emotion—mat-al—but Nyota could not feel anything and she was anticipating his next comment, which she had never understood: "They will see the green of me and know you are a ruse." But he didn't say it._

_Instead he continued to look at her—mat-al, mat-al—what was 'the green of me?'—and suddenly he touched her wrist and she felt mat-al. Her dreaming brain did what her conscious mind could not: she felt, precisely, what Spock had projected as he told her to be safe, in its full detail and overwhelmingness. Some dim back portion of her brain smashed together the two fragments of enigma; she had known mat-al as soon as Spock touched her wrist, but she couldn't put the word and the sensation together until now._

_The rest of her mind, which concerned Nyota much more pressingly, was reveling in feeling mat-al; she was drowning in the frightening yet alluring sensation of being owned. The protectiveness cocooned her in a swirl of un-tethered needpossessiveness earnestypossession until her senses cleared enough for her to realize she was with Spock. It was less of a sensory knowledge than an innate knowledge that beside her, in front of the red stone temple and touching her wrist, stood Spock. _

_She opened her eyes to verify the fact unnecessarily. His eyes, even darker than usual, lay on her with unsettling yet pleasing intensity. Nyota scooted forward on the floor in her lotus position—their surroundings having changed unnoticed and un-concerningly into an amorphous room—until their knees touched, and his hands, cool and pale, came to lie lightly on her bare shoulders. Tentatively, she raised her own fingers to brush aside his bangs and his eyes closed, but it made her notice that she could feel him again. As his skin skimmed hers, the empathic link between them restored itself, and she could feel his hum of satisfaction as her fingers further explored the line of his jaw. His eyes opened, but remained half-lidded, and then they were closer somehow without having moved. She wanted to kiss him—for him to kiss her—but instead, he leaned his forehead against hers and raised his fingers to her temple, and she was flooded with Spock, sending a tingle down her whole being as they sat blurring the lines between them. She felt so whole._

XXX

Nyota didn't know how long it lasted, but she awoke curled into a ball with her sheets tangled between her legs, the heat of the room overpowering her. She was sucking the air into her lungs like she couldn't consume enough; standing restlessly, she snuck over the floorboards in the familiar pattern that prevented their creaks and stole out the back door.

Standing before the gibbous moon in her pajamas with her arms wrapped around herself, Nyota realized several things: that her dreaming mind was much more reliable than her waking mind; that she had found the meaning of mat-al, and therefore effectively finished her translation; that ignoring the situation with Spock was not going to solve anything, and that she probably should follow her mother's advice (which had not, in her memory, ever failed her yet); and that she wanted to go back to San Francisco. Immediately, damn the cold weather. She had visited with her family, and they'd done their celebrating and catching up, but she needed to return to Starfleet. She needed to return to Spock.

Hands dropping, Nyota's brow smoothed. Nodding grimly up at the moon, she spun around to enter the house and get on a computer.

XXXXX

**A/N **Okay, I'm responding right now to all of you who think I skipped a part: The contents of Spock's conversation with Sarek will be revealed later, I promise! You just have to wait to find out with Nyota hehehe

A thought when I was naming everyone: instead of everything becoming homogenized, I imagine there is now a cultural backlash where everyone wants to preserve their regional heritage, especially because of new alien contacts. Hence the traditional names.

They speak Swahili this whole chapter; I didn't italicize because it's pretty self contained, and I thought we'd all get kind of tired of it.

Just so you're all warned: we are winding down towards the end of this saga! Drop a review to let me know what you thought =]


	34. Chapter 34

**Disclaimer **Everything I usually say

**Chapter Thirty Four**

Spock sat at his small table with a PADD before him, which he had abandoned after two paragraphs, and his spoon poised over his bowl of plomeek soup. He'd made it in a human attempt to comfort himself, but judging by his rapidly shifting thoughts, it was not working.

He kept replaying the goodbye to Nyota; even though he had developed an argument for its illogic, he allowed the reviewing anyways. He had restrained her in an understandable impulse to make sure she considered his directive seriously; his decision to leave his mental shields relaxed was more…mysterious. He had developed arguments over this as well, about his wish to impress upon her his earnestness, but conversely the social inappropriateness and his previous decision to prevent mental touch between them. Overarching these lay the fact that these had not interplayed before the action: they were justification after the event. He could not honestly deny that he had left his shields down in that moment because he'd been unreasonably surprised she was leaving, and wanted to touch her mind.

With a thought to his recent conversation with his father, Spock restrained a sigh with his spoon still hovering over his soup. Looking down, he realized what he was doing and stood to place the unwanted meal in the sink.

He turned to the apartment feeling unsettlingly unfocused. He had finished the grading for the semester, and had completed the plans he needed for next semester's classes the day before. He'd exercised before eating breakfast, and was not certain he could remain focused on reading. Meditation seemed the only solution, yet he'd meditated five hours more than usual in the past three days. Sitting on his couch gingerly, Spock twined his fingers together carefully.

He had attempted to ignore thoughts of Nyota, but they had come too frequently. He had tried to control thoughts of Nyota, but he had not yet developed his control as he wished. He had even tried indulging his thoughts of Nyota: however, the vivid meditation he'd allowed yesterday afternoon involving initiating mental contact with her had only increased the frequency of his thoughts of her.

And there was the issue of what his father had discovered for him about their mental connection. He was not sure whether he should inform Nyota of the new information, or what action on his part would yield the best results. Having failed to, as yet, determine criteria on which to judge the "best" results, this exercise had not gone far.

Pulling out his PADD, Spock pulled up some logic puzzles. His mind craved problems with definite solutions.

The rest of Spock's day passed in a similarly dissatisfying fashion. He disliked vacation because he preferred being productive to searching for activities in his apartment listlessly. One day between semesters would have been sufficient to finish first semester assignments and prepare for second semester. Some Terran customs he would never adjust to.

XXX

Nyota walked up to her dorm preoccupied and slightly hazy. She'd gotten herself a late flight to allow time to convince her family she needed to leave and to organize everything. Even though in her present location it was only a bit past ten, her waking day had been an uncomfortable twenty so far, because she couldn't sleep on the disorienting flight back. With her backpack hoisted over bent shoulders, she slumped down the hall to her dormroom. Just outside the door, she paused with a heaved sigh.

Gaila was _busy_ inside. Nyota rolled her eyes and rubbed a hand across her face. All she wanted to do was collapse onto her bed, and talk to Spock tomorrow, but Gaila had to bring someone home tonight.

Considering her options, Nyota scrunched her nose. Sarah had gone home, her dorm locked; ditto Ling. She didn't feel like rooming with the boys when she had such girly issues going on, and Jon would drag an inquisition out of her anyways. Sometimes the libraries had free couches, but it wasn't such an intriguing option…

Well, why had she come home? Did she want to confront Spock? Yes (well, a lot of no came screaming from the part of her brain that didn't want any fuss or heartbreak, but she'd flown home early, hadn't she?). Would she have as much delirium induced courage from a long period of time thinking about him tomorrow? No. Would she regret what she was about to do as soon as she woke up tomorrow (hopefully sometime in that late afternoon, if she had her way)? Probably.

She turned to walk off campus anyways.

First she wanted to talk to him about her thesis: it would give some pretense of legitimacy to her visit, right? She'd been thinking about it, and her discoveries, and she actually did have something she needed to talk to him about; just the simplification of language in general felt too generic. But the discovery of this unknown emotion word, mat-al, and the replacing of k'hat'n'dlawa because it was too emotional, and the importance of emotion to the story itself…she wanted to write about how the Reformation changed the language. She felt so much more passionate about this than her former topic. She just didn't know what Spock would think of it.

She thought of this on the way to his apartment. Not quite able to think about how, hell, whether, she was going to say anything else about her revelation about not being able to ignore him anymore, she focused instead on the wording of her thesis. And strangely enough, even though she'd only been there once, her feet brought her much too quickly to the front of his apartment building, and she was buzzing up to his rooms before her bleary mind had truly integrated what she was doing.

XXX

Spock looked up from where he was preparing for meditation. He was not expecting visitors, and it was late, by Terran standards, to drop by unannounced. Moreover, few people "dropped by" his apartment at all. He padded over to the console and asked a prompt, "Yes?"

"Umm, hi Commander," came Nyota's distorted voice over the system. Spock's eyebrows rose. "I know it's weird that I'm here, but I wanted to talk to you about my thesis, and I was wondering…" Her voice trailed off.

"Come up," he said curtly, unlocking the downstairs door.

He sat on the couch waiting. He could not deny her entrance when she had come all the way into the city to speak with him; amendment: he could not do so in social conscience. With his present facts it seemed illogical for her to have come, but he should hear her argument, should he not?

In one minute and thirty eight seconds she arrived at his door; it took her an intriguing twenty nine seconds before she knocked, and he pressed the button to open the door.

She was wearing a backpack, and was grasping the straps at her shoulders; her eyes widened, perhaps at his appearance, when the door opened. He was wearing his meditation clothes, which he'd been told resembled pajamas, and had nothing on his feet. "Oh," she said instead of greeting him, "it's late, isn't it?"

Quirking an eyebrow at her, he stood aside to let her in and said, "Were you not aware of the time, Nyota?" He ignored the distinctly pleased feeling of seeing her back safe as she slipped off her shoes; it was illogical based on the low probability of a less favorable outcome.

"Well, I guess I knew it was, but I didn't think about how it's late for visiting. You weren't asleep, were you?"

"I was not," he assured her, watching curiously as she placed her bag on the floor and sank onto his couch. Her eyes did not have their usual liveliness, and her clothes were wrinkled. "Did you travel today? You appear tired."

"Yeah, my flight just got in," she said, nodding. She seemed quite comfortable in his living room as she peered up at him. "It's so long."

"I assumed you would stay home longer, as most of the other students do," he commented. How odd it felt to be holding such a mundane conversation with her in his apartment late at night, unexpectedly…

At this she shifted in her seat slightly. Quietly, she asked, "Could I have some tea, maybe?"

"Of course," he answered, wondering if she had missed his implied question.

When he returned from the kitchen with two steaming mugs, Nyota was peering down at her fingers, which twined nervously in her lap. She murmured her thanks as he passed her a mug and lowered himself onto the cushion beside her. "I'm sorry for intruding," she said, glancing up at him. "It seems a little silly now that I'm here."

Contemplating why she could be nervous, he replied, with a matching low tone, "It is not a problem. I rarely fall sleep so early."

She nodded, and then squared her shoulders minutely and began in a more confident voice. "I wish to change my thesis, and I wanted to get your approval."

Before prompting her forward, he tilted his head and asked, "Why did this require you to come to my apartment at night, immediately after flying back?"

She bit her lip but held his gaze. "Do you mind that I came?" she asked.

"No," he replied truthfully.

"Then can we proceed?"

"Very well," he agreed, making sure his fascination was not escaping his mental bounds.

"I want to write about the changes in language caused by the Reformation," she told him, pulling out a PADD from her bag. "I figured out what mat-al is," she said, pressing forward in a curious way, "and I remembered the k'hat'n'dlawa replacement, and the emphasis on emotion in the story…Modern Vulcan literature would never address such themes in a less than scientific and analytical way. _Ha-kiv t'Verat _is an emotional novel, and it comes through in the language in a way that Modern Golic doesn't really allow in so many ways…"

Spock studied her extensive list of examples and arguments. "Have you read modern literature, Nyota?"

"I took a whole class on Vulcan literature last year. We read a ton. None of it was like this, and I think I had a respectable sample size."

He nodded. "I believe it will be satisfactory."

"Will it be better than my other topic?" she asked eagerly.

"It will be more original if you focus on changes in language as opposed to changes in culture, which are well documented."

She nodded, a smile breaking onto her face. "Wonderful."

Watching her closely, he repeated, "Why did you come to ask me now?" A red flush crept under her skin as she took back her PADD and tucked it into her bag. She folded her legs under her and turned to face him completely. He felt an urge to reach up and feel the heat beneath her cheeks.

"Actually," she started, "I did want to talk to you about something else." Her eyes had regained their light as she watched him, and he matched her gaze, waiting for her to continue. "Do you know why it was only me? Why I could feel you and no one else?"

Spock inclined his head sharply at the unexpected topic. He had not thought she would bring it up again; was not sure, even, that she had made the connection that the phenomenon had only occurred with her. He looked at her carefully, sitting on his couch turned towards him, wearing shorts despite the cool weather, and tempting him to close the small distance to feel her emotions… "Nyota, I believe it is best we do not discuss it."

"No," she shook her head vehemently. "We're talking about it."

XXXXX

**A/N** I know, horrid place to cut! I had to do it somewhere, because this is going to be a long conversation…I feel terrible, I promise.

Just one more chapter, if you can believe it—I'll get it up soon!


	35. Chapter 35

**Disclaimer **Star Trek and its characters are not mine, and I make no profit

**Chapter Thirty Five**

Spock studied the adamant young woman before him. She seemed determined to talk about their mental connection, which he was not sure was entirely advisable. Her eyes softened before she spoke again.

"Spock," she said, "we can't just leave this alone. Do you know? I couldn't sleep last night—I dreamt about you—" Another furious blush covered her cheeks gratifyingly as she confessed. Then realization hit him.

"Last night?"

"Yes," she nodded.

"At approximately 0200 your local time?"

Nyota raised an eyebrow at him. "Probably…"

He blinked at her for a beat; that had been the time of his meditation, when he had allowed himself to imagine touching her temples and flooding them both with sensation… "I apologize."

Her eyes widened at him. "For what, Spock?"

"I believe I initiated the vision unknowingly during my meditation; I would not have deliberately linked with your mind uninvited," he told her earnestly. He could tell he was frowning, but could not smooth the expression. "I was not aware I could cause such a connection over long distances—" His speech was cut off by Nyota's hand on his knee. He looked down at the contact until she removed it, and he looked up at her.

Whispering, she told him, "I didn't mind." He held her gaze until her brown eyes were too much, and he turned away. "Do you know why it happened?" she asked again.

Once more, he gave her a long look. She wasn't going to give up, and it did involve her… "My father found a passing reference to it in his research on Vulcan. It is a little documented phenomenon that occurs in approximately 9.7% of unbonded Vulcans," he finally admitted, "though data collection has not been exhaustive—"

Nyota interrupted him with a warning, "Spock."

Obliging her, he continued, "It is termed irak-nahan tel-fam. Directly it means 'bondless telepathy,' though in my—our—case, it was more accurately empathy."

Nyota drew in a long breath. "So this is when a Vulcan is unbonded and contacts another empathically or telepathically?"

"Without touch," Spock clarified. "You are aware we are touch telepaths," he said, noting she looked down at his hands at his words, "and can initiate telepathic contact with others even when bonded. But irak-nahan tel-fam…it is the linking of minds while unbonded." Nyota was chewing her lip.

"Did you find out why it happens?"

Watching her closely, he replied, "It appears to occur when an unbonded mind selects another unbonded mind it determines compatible."

The girl just looked at him for a moment before prompting, "…compatible?"

Clarifying, Spock said, "Determined adequate for companionship or telepathic contact, perhaps. I do not have elaboration…"

"You mean for bonding?" Nyota asked quietly.

He should not have told her. This situation would have been more easily dealt with if he had not told her. "I do not know the extent of what the initiation means—" he said, making sure her legs were not coming any closer to his as she leaned forward eagerly.

"What usually happens?" she asked.

"I did not find statistics studying those involved, Nyota, it is a little known phenomenon, and I do not know."

"But probably—"

"Others do not impact us," he insisted, wary of where her reasoning would lead them. "We must deal with our own situation. Discovering that this has a name does not change our situation as—" He cut himself off, unsure of where to take the sentence.

"As what, Spock?" she asked, her brown eyes wide.

"As professor and student," he said warningly.

"Spock," she said quietly. "You're not my professor anymore." He had not yet integrated this fact. "I have tried to ignore this. It did not work." She was matching his tone; he could tell from her correct words that she wanted to convince him of something. "I assume from your mannerisms that you have tried to ignore this too. But when you said goodbye…last night…Spock," she entreated. He turned to find her fervent eyes on him, and had to tighten his mental shields.

XXX

Nyota restrained her feet from fidgeting as she sat on his couch, inclined towards him, trying to force that guarded look out of his eyes. She had let this get away from her, but she didn't care; she had just been going to tell him what she felt and leave it alone. But now she wanted more.

Deciding to push her luck, she said quietly, "Do you know how I figured out what mat-al is?" She saw his slight confusion at her change of topic in the tightening of his eyes. "You."

"Nyota, I told you I do not know what mat-al means," he said; she loved how he pronounced the Vulcan words as in his own tongue. She could spell out what the weird effect between them was called, but only because he'd translated for her. The sound of it had been too intriguing to listen to the words.

"But you do," she insisted. Almost wary to bring it up, she said, "You know when you said goodbye to me? And you left your shields down?" Despite his lack of affirmation, she continued, "I could feel your emotions again. And that indescribable—" She couldn't quite bring herself to explain the tide of protectiveness that had hit her. "—that feeling? There's no word for it anymore, because none of you ever talk about these things. But there used to be a word for it. It's mat-al." He just continued to study her, and she wanted to reach out to feel what he was feeling. She wanted to trace the line of his eyebrow and the turn of his ear, but she tightened her hands into fists in her lap as he decided how to respond.

"I should not have allowed you to feel that," he finally said, his voice restrained. She couldn't help herself: she reached a hand out to touch his forearm fleetingly through his meditation clothes, which reminded her of scrubs but long sleeved.

"Yes, you should have," she said. "And I'm glad about the irak-nahan…" she said slowly, trying to remember.

"Irak-nahan tel-fam," he supplied softly, speaking the Vulcan with that wonderful lilting accent of his native language…

"The irak-nahan tel-fam and the dream," she continued, growing warm at the memory of his forehead pressed against hers, "because it means I know…"

"Know what, Nyota?"

She swallowed and took a deep breath. "I know that you won't mind, not really, if I…"

Scooting forward until her knees bumped the side of his thigh, she reached up to take his face in her hands, her fingers curling around his neck. Before she could move forward to press her lips to his, his hands came up to her wrists and his eyes closed. She thought he would pull her away, but his fingers closed around her and held her hands to him. Watching him with shallow breath, she felt his shields open to her tentatively.

The mat-al was there, but quieter, behind uncertainty and curiosity and simpler want. Her thumb stroked his jaw line, and she felt the curious sensation of the ghost of it coming back to her, through him. She was kneeling almost, now, but felt her body less as he let her feel his desire. Her breath hitched in her throat.

He swallowed and opened his eyes, starting to pull her hands away; she couldn't resist him, for he was too strong. But she didn't lose the contact as his hands remained on her wrists, and she could still feel the overwhelming fact that he wanted her, not just abstractly and like this, but strongly, and sexually, and mentally and, to him, inappropriately.

"It is not reasonable," he said slowly, his voice low and unsteady, his eyes still half lidded.

"Life isn't reasonable," she whispered, leaning forward again. He held her at bay.

"We must make it as reasonable as possible," he replied. She didn't like that he seemed to be recovering when her breath was still slightly unattainable and his nearness was making her head swim. She frowned at him.

"Irak-nahan tel-fam is not reasonable," she argued. "Mat-al does not seem reasonable." His eyes were troubled as they searched hers, only inches away from her. She studied his long lashes and the depth of color in his irises while she had the chance.

"_There are too many words_," he said quietly, suddenly switching to Vulcan, before releasing his hold on her only to flip over his hands so that the pads of their fingers brushed. Nyota lost her breath.

This wasn't only his emotions; this was like in her dream, only magnified a billion times. She could feel all of him, and wondered dimly if he could feel her this way; and to her surprise, she heard the answer like a whisper in her mind. "_Yes," _he responded. Slowly, through the chaos of his swirling being, she began to discern individual thoughts. Only they weren't quite articulated; they were like her own thoughts, whole, but not put into words yet. The first reminded her to breathe, and she pulled in air unevenly.

He wasn't supposed to allow this, because he was her teacher; her immediate response was to the effect of, "Screw it." She watched curiously as he seemed to retrieve information from compartmentalized areas, and he acknowledged this with an amused non-comment about her disorganized thoughts. They communicated in a confusing mess of English and Vulcan and feelings, and she couldn't even place how each thought reached her. But then he was thinking about how he could not force this on her just because of his own lack of control, which, before she could respond that she most certainly did not feel forced, brought forth a feeling of shame she could not quite comprehend. This, over his mental connection with her when it happened in 9.7246843%—his mind provided the full number—of Vulcans? Of unbonded Vulcans, he amended automatically, but she was still trying to respond that she felt _she_ was trying to convince _him_, but also figure out how she was categorized in his mind. All of his memories and knowledge seemed to be sort of floating behind his conscious thoughts, and she could see—feel—that she was compartmentalized too, as student and friend and desirable woman and, most intriguingly, as object of irak-nahan tel-fam. He felt her searching and enveloped her in a new wave of mat-al, but this was too much as he simultaneously tried to argue that it was illogical to defy Starfleet when she would graduate in four months, two weeks, and—

Nyota pulled away from him abruptly, and both of them gasped at the sudden loss of contact. Nyota swayed back on her heels as her breath came quickly and she finally saw his eyes unguarded. Steadying herself, she said shakily, "That was too much."

"Sorry," he said simply, reaching forward to brush away a strand of escaped hair from her forehead, but keeping his thoughts away from her.

"If you try to tell me that any of that was reasonable…" she said, placing a hand on his shoulder to hold herself up and readjust her seat.

XXX

"Are you recovering?" he asked with concern as she sat back down next to him but with her legs curved to her side and leaning toward him. "I should not have overwhelmed you with thought," he said, yet yearning to pull her into him again, to experience her unbridled, joyous mind again.

"I should be fine," she said, tucking her hair behind one ear and turning her face to him. Their arms pressed together, and he determinedly prevented himself from flipping his hand around to where it would touch hers again. "But I don't think we're turning back from this," she said. "I want to try that again some time."

He felt a surge of his possessiveness again, what Nyota had pronounced mat-al, and at her shiver, knew she had felt it.

This was not logical. They had no legitimate reason to defy Starfleet. She had pointed out that he was no longer her direct professor, but he was still her superior, and she would be working for him next semester. She had, at least, assured him she was entirely willing. More than willing; he had felt her longing for him, glimpsed, in the chaos of her, fantasies of kissing him. He pressed against her now, and she leaned into the touch of his body next to hers on the couch.

Perhaps life was not always reasonable. As she had said, mat-al did not feel reasonable; but it did feel right. Her mind held only respect and desire for him, which he found intoxicating when joined with his similar emotions regarding her. He had never felt mat-al, this possessiveness, before, and he allowed himself to feel, instinctually, that the probability of developing it again was low.

His father's words from their conversation about irak-nahan tel-fam repeated in his mind: "_Spock, we will forever strive to be logical, and to rise above the primitive impulses of emotion. Yet I have learned that there will always be a part of our race that, however illogical and unpredictable, uses our emotions to guide us to our happiness." _When he had finished, his mother had come into the vid screen briefly to add quietly, "_Happiness is rarely illogical, sa-fu."_

Spock turned to Nyota and held his hand out palm up. "Can that sometime be now?" he asked, promising, "I'll be quiet."

She placed her small, dark hand over his with her eyes trained on his face. Softly, he brushed his thoughts over her mind, letting her feel his willingness. "You'll try this?" she asked in his mind and out loud. "Even though it's unreasonable?"

Carefully allowing his mat-al to cover her, but monitoring her response, he said quietly, "I believe reason has been interrupted."

She smiled at him and squeezed his hand, telling him that was just fine with her.

XXXXX

**A/N **Oh my goodness. We've done it. That's the end folks; I made it. Never would have done it without all of you! I never expected such a fabulous positive response to this story, and I wouldn't have had the motivation to finish or the joy of sharing RI if it weren't for all you, my lovely loyal readers! A special thanks to all of you who reviewed—you continually made my day, challenged my writing, and gave me the will to keep going!

I do sincerely hope you are satisfied with how they got together. I know it was a long wait, and I hope it was worth it. Irak-nahan tel-fam is a concept I completely and utterly made up—it has no basis in canon. There you finally have the explanation about why it was only Nyota who felt Spock's emotions. The word mat-al I also made up (based on mat, possession).

Now, the words you've all (I hope!) been waiting for: YES, I do have a sequel planned! This doesn't feel like we're done, does it? That's because we're not: we've got to get Nyota's thesis done, get Spock onto the Enterprise, and lead up to the movie, not to mention figure out how this relationship is actually going to work. I'm very excited to explore their actual relationship, and it may slip into M rated themes…Originally this was all going to be one giant behemoth, but I decided to make it two =] It's more like two parts of a whole than a story and its sequel. HOWEVER, I will be taking a break. I want to work on my original novel for a while, and I will be planning things out a bit closer before I start posting. So I don't know how long this hiatus is going to be. I'll guess a few weeks, maybe (gasp!) a full month. Keep me on author alert and I promise I'll be back!

FYI, I had really bad timing on this in that I am going on vacation for a week starting _tomorrow_ and I don't know if I'll have internet. This means I won't be able to get to all your reviews immediately, but thanks in advance and I promise to reply!

Once again, thank you; I look forward to hearing what you all thought. See you in less time than it takes to type irak-nahan tel-fam,

winter


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